


Let's Make Believe

by Thatswherethelightgetsin



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Ridiculous boys being ridiculous, and pining, there be, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatswherethelightgetsin/pseuds/Thatswherethelightgetsin
Summary: Naboo is on trial for something he may or may not have done and Howard and Vince are the only ones who can testify that he didn't (probably) do it. There’s just one problem, Dennis still thinks Howard and Vince are a couple…





	1. Chapter 1

“I think it’s better that I move out.”

Howard’s words hung in the air between them. Vince stared at his friend for a long moment. Perhaps if he just didn’t acknowledge it then it wouldn’t have happened. “Yeah,” he heard himself say, like it was someone else talking and he could only watch in slow, sick horror. “That’s probably a good idea. It ain’t… You’d be happier with Lester or something.”

Howard swallowed. He was standing tall, almost completely frozen. “I’ve… I got a flat. Leroy-”

“What?” Vince snapped, the world suddenly springing back into focus. He could feel his heart beating fast in his chest, his cheeks beginning to heat. “How long have you been planning this?”

“I mean-” Howard started.

“You know what?” Vince interrupted him again. “I don’t wanna know. It don’t even matter. Just leave, I’m done.”

“Vince-” Howard looked almost pained for a moment. The mask of casual indifference seemed to slip just for a second but then it was back up immediately. He closed his mouth firmly and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

The absurdity of it slammed into his chest and he huffed out a hollow-sounding laugh. “What  _I_ want? You’ve got some nerve-”

“Vince!” Bollo shouted loudly, barrelling into the living room. “Vince and Howard must help.”

They both turned as one to glare at Bollo, the tension in the room so thick Vince was surprised the gorilla was able to wade through it. “What?” he snapped. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

“No,” Howard said, firmly. “We’re done. What do you need Bollo?”

Vince was so furious that he took a moment to be stunned by the ferocity of it. The gap was long enough for Bollo to start talking. “Naboo been sentenced to death.”

“What?” Howard snapped. “Again?”

“No,” Bollo said, “it real this time. I got a bad feeling about this.”

“What happened?” Howard said, turning so he was no longer facing Vince at all, almost blocking him from the conversation.

It made him so angry that he was tempted shove Howard in his back as hard as he could. He’d done that when they were little sometimes, when he’d not been out of the jungle long and the words to explain why he was so frustrated wouldn’t come. Howard had always just turned and given him a stern look then.  _“Use your words, Vince,” he’d said softly, but firmly. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what you want.”_  He didn’t know what he wanted any better now than he did then, but the urge to hurt Howard, to pass along some of the pain in his chest, made his hands ball into tight fists.

“Shaman’s secret book gone missing and they think Naboo lost it,” Bollo said. Now Vince was looking at him, he could see that he was agitated, he was moving from foot to foot and his hair was all puffed out. Naboo must really be in trouble.

“Well, what are we meant to do about it?” Howard asked, he sounded annoyed. He probably wished he’d already left, started his boring new life.

“Why are you even still here?” Vince snapped, unable to keep the words in. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Me and Bollo can sort this out without you like we always do, you’d probably only end doing something to make it worse anyway.”

Howard looked like he was going to argue, there was something in his eyes that Vince thought might be regret. It made him, if possible, even more angry. Howard had no right to feel bad now; it was him that was choosing to leave, him that had apparently been planning it for ages and ages behind Vince’s back. He didn’t get to play the hurt one now.

“Go and find Lester or one of your other boring, old farts. They might actually want you around,” he said.

It was enough. Howard deflated, his shoulders sagging in defeat for a moment before he drew himself up. “Very well, sir,” he said, his face now an impassive mask. “If that’s what you really think of me, I shall take my leave of you. But don’t come begging to me when it turns out that you need old Howard Moon afterall. I shall be busy, sir, I have things to attend to.”

Vince rolled his eyes. “Go on then,” he said, gesturing to the stairs. “No one’s stopping you.”

There was another fraction of a second where he thought Howard might back down, where his resolve to be an utter prick might finally dissolve. But it was gone as soon as it was there. He nodded his head and turned to the stairs and disappeared down them.

Vince turned away so he wouldn’t watch him go. “So?” he snapped when Bollo just stared at him. “What’s going on with Naboo?”

“Shaman are going to execute him unless we do something,” Bollo said, still shuffling from foot to foot in his agitation.

Vince reeled back in shock. “They’re going to kill him for losing some old book?”

“Naboo on his last warning after he set fire to Saboo’s robes with joint during last Shaman retreat,” Bollo explained.  

“Okay,” Vince said, not wanting to get into all the weird shit the Shamans got up to. “What do you want us to do?”

“Go to Xooberon,” Bollo said. “We tell council Naboo was with you all weekend and he couldn’t have taken the book.”

“Is that all?” Vince said.

Bollo shrugged. “The council are ballbags, they believe Vince and we get Naboo back.”

It sounded simple enough. Besides, it would be good for Vince to be out of the flat for awhile. It would give Howard a chance to get his things. Maybe he’d even be gone by the time Vince was back. He ignored the sharp stab in stomach at the thought. It was for the best, Howard had been dragging him down for too long. He could go on this little adventure, get Naboo back and take his mind off the whole thing at the same time. Maybe not being on the same planet as Howard for awhile would make him feel less like he was about to fly apart at the seams.

He forced a smile onto his face. “Come on then,” he said, hoping he sounded more certain than he felt. “Let’s get on with it.”

\----- 

Vince was expecting more desert landscapes with distant mountains, like when they were searching for the Fountain of Youth. Instead, they found themselves in something that looked very much like, “Camden?” he asked after a moment.

Bollo shrugged. “They liked the aesthetic, they make capital city in its imagine.”

Vince grinned. “That is genius,” he said, feeling at home immediately.

It was better to be doing something. It made it easier to imagine a life without Howard in it. He could do this. He could hang out with Bollo and go on adventures. He hardly missed him at all. It was better if anything. He didn’t feel ready to punch someone at any moment for one thing.

He followed Bollo along the bustling high street which was filled with strange looking shaman with elaborate robes rather than goths. But Vince quite liked it, it gave the sense of difference from his normal life.

They reached a nondescript building just off the high street. Bollo pressed the buzzer on the grimy wall. “Earth council,” a bored voice replied.

Bollo leant close into the intercom to speak. “Bollo here to rescue Naboo.”

There was a long pause, then the screeching of a buzzer unlocking the door. They did the traditional tugging fruitlessly at the handle a few times before it released and admitted them into building. It was just as nondescript inside, faded blue carpet and scuffed white walls greeted them as they made their way to the second floor. It was only once they opened the door that things started to look a lot more like Vince might have expected.

They found themselves at the entrance of a forest. Trees arched overhead, meeting in the middle to create a dark canopy. Two moons hung above them, suspended in an inky sky dotted with stars, their soft light illuminating the new world in front of them. Vince was pretty used to this sort of thing, but he still got a little thrill from it; there was always a rightness to seeing something so foreign and magic.

He found himself turning to ask Howard if he remembered the last time they were there. He caught himself just in time, and grimaced at the way his stomach dropped at the realisation that he wasn’t ever going to be able to do that again. Howard wouldn’t make any more jokes about them not being able to afford more than one new location per adventure. He wasn’t going to pretend not to be afraid in the most unconvincing way ever, which in turn wasn’t going to make Vince’s protective streak kick-in and his wall of bravado go up.

There was no way he was going to start crying in the middle of the reception to the Shaman Council so he concentrated on the fury from that morning instead. Howard hadn’t cared enough to talk to him about finding somewhere else to live and so he was’t going to care enough now to cry about it.

By the time he’d gathered himself, Bollo had hurried forward towards a low table at the entrance to the forest. He took a deep breath and followed behind him. A ginger man in a Parker was sat there, his glasses pushed up high on his nose. He looked up and smiled.

“Alright, Bollo?” he asked in a thick Welsh accent. “You’re back sooner than I thought you’d be.’

“Bollo and Vince must see council,” Bollo said, his voice still agitated.  

The shaman looked at him for a moment before understanding settled over his face. “This about Naboo? I saw they brought him in. Bad business with that book.” He looked genuine in his concern. “You ask me, they should be looking under Tony’s bed, it’s not like he hasn’t lost things before.”

“Bollo needs to see council,” Bollo interrupted.

“Alright,” he said, looking a bit put out. “They’ll be here now in a minute.”

Vince wanted to ask what that meant, but at that moment he heard a deep voice coming from inside the trees. “Who’s there Gethin? It is getting late and I wish to return home to my wife.”

Dennis appeared through the trees. He was just as imposing as Vince remembered. He shrank back behind Bollo without even meaning to do it. Vince mostly got along with people, but Naboo’s friends had always seemed remote and strange to him. In truth they’d always made him a bit nervous. He was used to fitting in with any group, subtly (or not so subtly) changing his look and interests so he could have as much in common with people as it took for them to accept him. That was hard with the Shaman, not that he didn’t dig their look, but because he couldn’t get a handle on what they wanted, other than to get off their faces. It might come with being hundreds of years old, but they always seemed to look right through him. It made him feel small and invisible.

“Dennis,” Bollo said, his voice high and anxious. “Bollo bring Vince to show that Naboo not lose book with ancient shaman secrets in it.”

“Alright?” Vince said, smiling and hoping he seemed friendly and non threatening.

Dennis looked irritated - not that Vince had seen him look any other way - as he glanced at Bollo. “Bollo,” he said, “I told you that the trial will take place at the full moons and not before. There is a process and Naboo is on his final warning, I am in no mood to give him special consideration. A few nights in a cell will likely do him good.”

“But Naboo was with Vince all weekend,” Bollo said. “He couldn’t have taken the book.”

“Yeah,” Vince said, gathering himself and stepping forward. “He was helping me get ready for this party that's happening next week, I wanted a cape that changed colour in time with the music-”

Dennis looked at him. “It is you,” he said, interrupting Vince just as he was getting into his flow. “Where is your boyfriend?”

Everyone froze, Vince’s mind working furiously to catch up with what he could possibly be talking about. Howard’s party, he realised with a jolt. They hadn’t actually seen the Shaman Council since then, or only fleetingly as they picked up Naboo. He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d buried the memory of that night so thoroughly that it was a shock to be reminded that it really happened.

“Is he not with you?” Dennis continued, when no one spoke. “It cannot be that he would allow you to travel alone to strange lands?””

Vince’s confusion started to morph into annoyance. That was some outdated relationship nonsense. Where did this mug get off thinking that Vince couldn’t go where he wanted whenever he wanted?

“Unless you are no longer together?” Dennis asked into the continued silence, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Because if you are not, then your love was not as strong as I thought. Perhaps it was because you were in a cupboard with an extreme sports calendar model and it tested the very foundations of your relationship. And if that is true… then I will personally make sure that your head is cleaved cleanly from your scrawny body.”

Vince blinked at him, the angry words he'd been preparing dying on his lips. There was steel in Dennis’ eyes and he had no doubt that if didn’t act quickly he was getting beheaded before he even had the chance to run. “What?” he said, his voice not as certain as he would have liked. “No, of course. We’re still totally together. Bumming all over the place. He’s just on holiday to a…” he paused for a fraction of second while his brain scrabbled around trying to locate a convincing lie, “jazz retreat. Yeah, I didn’t want to disturb him with this. But, we’re still totally together. No major issues where he can’t stand being the same room as me or anything.”

“Bring your life partner here,” Dennis said, his eyes never leaving Vince’s. “I will not trust you on the same planet as my wife.”

“You’ve got some trust issues, mate,” Vince couldn’t help but say, “you want to work on your own relationship instead of being so worried about mine.”

Dennis drew himself up. “Are you refusing?”

Vince hadn’t survived as long as he had without learning to read a room. “No,” he said, quickly, “course not. I’ll, err… I’ll just go and get him and come back.”

“You do that, raven scarecrow man,” Dennis said, seeming to relax slightly.

Vince turned and hustled Bollo out of the room. He shut the door firmly behind them before turning to the gorilla and hissing, “Now what are we going to do?”

Bollo narrowed his eyes at him. “We go get Howard,” he said, as though Vince was being stupid.

He was about to point out that he would rather wear Howard’s clothes for the rest of his life than ever talk to that Northern plonker again, when he realised that Bollo didn’t know Howard had decided to move out. He stopped, suddenly not wanting to say the words out loud. He didn’t want to talk about it yet. He needed more time to figure out how he felt about it so he could never think about it ever again. Besides, if Howard was actually going to come with them, he didn’t want Bollo knowing they’d ended their friendship. It would make it even weirder and harder for Vince to ignore.

“Yeah,” he forced out. “Okay. Let’s pop back. He’s probably still at the flat.”

Packing. So he could finally leave Vince once and for all.

He sighed. He had a bad feeling about this.

——-

Howard was indeed still at the flat. He was messing around in the stockroom, doing something that Vince didn’t care about. He’d told Bollo to wait for them upstairs, not wanting to have the conversation in front of him. He walked quickly into the room, not wanting to give himself the chance to think about what he was going to say.

“Vince,” Howard said, looking surprised before a his face went back to blank indifference. “Did you get Naboo back okay?”

“You’re going to need to come with us,” Vince said, hating the admission with every fibre of his being.

Howard frowned. “Why?” he asked.

Vince hadn’t tried to come up with an excuse before seeing Howard. He was going to need to be in on the lie if there was any hope of it working. But now he was here the idea of admitting it was excruciating. He didn’t want to need Howard for anything, ever again if he could help it, but certainly not for something like this. He balled his hands into fists and forced himself to speak. “Dennis still thinks we’re together and if he finds out we’re not, he’s going to kill me and then probably Naboo. So, you’ll have to come with me and convince him we’re still together and that Naboo didn’t take any stupid book.”

There was a long pause where it seemed Howard was trying to grasp what Vince was saying. “You’re asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend so we can rescue Naboo?” There was something about his tone that made it sound like he suspected Vince might have made the whole thing up.

Vince glared at him. “I’m not asking you to do anything, you tit,” he said. “I’m just telling you that Naboo needs your help, and it’s not like he hasn’t rescued your stupid arse enough times that you don’t owe him this.”

Howard’s face went through a number of emotions as Vince spoke, mostly it was annoyance but he was spitefully pleased to see a flash of hurt too. “I’m not saying that I won’t help, Vince,” Howard said, affecting an annoyingly reasonable tone. “Whatever has happened to your and my friendship, I will always care greatly for Naboo. So, if I can help him, of course I want to try.”

“Well, don’t go to any trouble,” Vince said, his voice taking on a petulant, sarcastic tone. Howard just managed to bring out it out in him. It was like he didn’t even have to try, just the slightest movement or look and Vince was so furious he was ready to punch walls. His reactions were almost as distressing as what Howard did to bring them out. He so desperately wanted to not care anymore, he was exhausted with the whole thing. He was tired of being angry and disappointed and hurt the whole time. He just wanted it to end, but he couldn’t seem to break the cycle.

Howard sighed, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “Do you want me to come or not?”

“I want you to be as far away as humanly possible,” Vince said. “But Naboo needs us to help him, so it doesn’t really matter what I want. Are you going to help or what?”

“You know I am,” Howard said. “He’s my friend as well, Vince, I’ve known him longer than you if you remember.”

“Good for you,” he snapped. “Come on.” He turned to leave before spinning back around. “And I ain’t told Bollo about you moving out yet, so keep your trap shut about it. I need to find someone else to take your room before I tell them.”

It looked for a moment like Howard might argue but in the end he just nodded his head once. Vince didn’t wait for him to change his mind before turning on his heel and stalking from the room.

——

Howard walked a few paces behind Vince and Bollo, not wanting to attract more of Vince’s ire. He just wanted to get the whole thing over with so he could get back to the flat and start packing. It felt like Bollo was sitting on his chest and his stomach was twisted in knots at the idea of what would happen then. He hadn’t dared think that far ahead, it was mostly a gaping black hole of uncertainty.

He hadn’t intended to tell Vince about his plans to move out. But Vince had seemed so furious with him - for what felt like the hundredth day in a row - that it just slipped out. There had been some small, sad part of him that had hoped Vince would care. That he might not  _want_ Howard to leave. It was stupid and embarrassing in retrospect. Vince had wanted to get rid of him for years. He should have got the hint and gone after they failed so spectacularly to even reach America, let alone become international rockstars. But he was a coward.

At least it was done now. Vince would be rid of him soon, just as soon as they got through this last task together. It was fitting, a chance to repay Naboo for the countless recuses he’d mounted for them, some small redressing of the cosmic balance sheet. It would be nice to feel useful for something, to be able to ensure that Vince was safe one last time.

He didn’t ask questions as they made their ways through Camden that wasn’t quite Camden and to an old government building. He sensed that any questions would be met with hostility. The forest was both a surprise and calming when they entered. He hung back, not wanting to capture Vince’s attention and anger again. Bollo and the ginger shaman were talking, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He looked up at the moons and wondered if this would be the last time he’d see something like this.

Vince had always meant adventure to him; bright colours and sunshine. He didn’t want to think about the future, what future there would be now but he somehow couldn’t imagine that it would contain adventures and magic. When he tried to picture it he could only see quiet introspection and perhaps, if he was lucky, the odd glimpse of what Vince would achieve without him. He hoped at least Vince would be better off once he was gone.

“Ah,” a booming voice said from the edge of the forest. Howard looked up to find Dennis striding out toward them. He hadn’t seen the head shaman since his party. He didn’t much appreciate the reminder. “I see you have both arrived.”

Howard forced himself to stand by Vince’s side. He wondered briefly how he ought to stand, he suspected he looked uncomfortable and stiff but he couldn’t work out how to change that. He didn’t want to stand too close, but then, it felt like everyone could see how far apart they were.

“Yeah,” Vince was saying. Could everyone else hear that hard note to his voice? “Now let Naboo go and we can all get out of here.”

Dennis stared at him impassively for a long moment. “I told you scarecrow man, the trial will not take place until the full moons. If you wish to partake of it, you must stay here until then.”

“What?” Howard said, his voice sharp and worried even to his own ears.

“There is an order to such things,” Dennis said. “Naboo stands accused of a grave crime, I will not forgo the proper procedure. Gethin,” he gestured to the man still sitting at the wooden table, “take our guests to their quarters."

“Wait a minute,” Vince said, “when’re the full moons? Can’t we just come back then?”

“It is not done,” he said. “I would watch over you until you testify. If you want to help Naboo, you will have to stay here.”

It looked for a moment like Vince was going to argue, but Howard knew men like this - he’d grown up with one - arguing would only make them dig in more. He stepped forward. “As you wish,” he said. “We will do whatever you think necessary.”

Dennis relaxed immediately, he inclined his head in what was probably mean to be a gracious gesture but just made him look more pompous.

“May I ask how long until the full moons? We’re not from around here,” he added.

“A month.”

There was a stunned silence. Several horrified thoughts ran through his head. There was no way he could stay that long with Vince. They hadn’t been together for that long for months, although it sometimes felt like years. That was before he even considered the fact he’d need to keep up the ridiculous pretense that he and Vince were a couple the whole time.

“No way!” Vince said, his voice genuinely outraged. “I got a party at the end of the week. I can’t miss it, I’ll be cast out of the Camden elite.”

“That is your choice,” Dennis said. “If you wish Naboo to lose his head, by all means leave.”

Vince scowled and crossed his arms, but Howard knew he wasn’t going to continue to protest. “Okay,” Howard said. “If that’s what’s needed. We’ll stay.”

Dennis nodded again. “You are a sensible man,” he said. “Your partner would do well to better know his place.”

“That’s not Vince’s way,” Howard said, trying to sound apologetic and not sort of proud like he felt. For all that Vince’s stubborn streak had made Howard what to throttle him over the years, it still made Howard smile to see Vince stand up for himself. It was a trait that it had taken him years to master and it was still satisfying to see it now, even if it was mostly used to tell Howard to get stuffed these days. “But, we don’t have any clothes or anything, can we at least go and-”

Dennis glowered for a moment as Howard let his request dangle between them unfinished. “Gethin,” he snapped suddenly, “take our guests to their rooms and then arrange for their things to be brought to them.” With that he drifted away from them, heading out of the door.

Gethin hustled to his feet and gestured for them to follow him. They walked through the clearing and into the woods. It was darker there, but the moons provided plenty of light as they walked slowly down the path.

“It’s good of you to come and help out Naboo,” Gethin said, turning to grin at Vince and Howard. “He’s in a right mess.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Howard said, wishing there was literally anything else they might be able to do.

“Yeah, but giving up a month of your life to help him is well good of you. But, at least you get to be together, eh?” He turned to them to give them a wink that made Howard want to blush and turn around and flee. “It’ll be like a couple’s retreat. Be nice, I suspect. Spending all day, everyday, with each other, never having to leave each other’s side-”

“Alright!” Howard snapped, panic starting to claw at his throat. “We get the picture.”

Gethin turned to give him a strange look, but thankfully didn’t say anything. They left the forest to find themselves inexplicably back in Camden, this time outside a small terrace house.

“Here we are. You’re the ground floor flat,” Gethin said, gesturing to the house. “It’s not much, but it has all the mod cons.”

Howard nodded but neither he nor Vince made any effort to walk to the house.

“You coming, Bollo?” Vince said in the end, as they both refused to move.

“Bollo have to stay with Naboo,” he said.

“Oh,” Vince said and nodded.

“So, we err…” Howard said. “We just have to stay in here for a month before the trial?”

“Oh, no,” Gethin said, “don’t worry, you can come and go in Fake Camden as much as you want. Plus, Dennis will want you at all the state ceremonies and that.”

“Of course he will,” Howard sighed.

“Yeah, there’s an itinerary on the board inside. Right,” Gethin said, holding out a set of keys on a little metal hoop, “that should be everything. If you need me, just give me a bell on the intercom, I’m on reception for the next couple of weeks.”

Howard nodded and took the keys, while Vince continued to glower at the floor and refuse to look at anyone. They watched as the others walked away down the street before turning to look at the little house. The silence stretched on but Howard genuinely had no idea how he ought to break it. He stared at the top of Vince’s head, where it was bowed to stare pointedly at the pavement.

He considered speaking, considered trying to continue their conversation about the flat that Leroy had found for him, but decided against it. There didn’t seem much left to say, Vince wanted him gone and there was no point in moaning about it now. It had been years coming. The fact that Howard had always been too afraid to say the words out loud before was hardly Vince’s fault. It wasn’t fair to drag the whole thing out. Not to either of them.

“Right,” he said, his voice softer than he’d expected, like he wasn’t sure that he wanted Vince to hear him. He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t even really expect one, and walked through the little gate and up the path to the front door.

The key turned easily in the lock and the door swung open with a little push. The hallway was dim, and there was the usual junk mail and unclaimed circulars littering the communal space. Howard ignored it and turned to the secondary door which opened just as easily as the front door. He stepped inside and froze.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Vince said, his voice loud in the quiet of the flat.

If you could call it that. It might be kindly described at a studio; there was a small kitchen with a tiny table, a door which presumably led to a bathroom, and then just one large bed. It seemed to take up the entire space. It was probably just a normal sized double bed but it seemed impossibly huge.

He was about to suggest that it would be better that he slept on the floor when Vince spoke again.

“You can sleep on the floor,” he snapped, pushing by Howard into the small room and standing next to the bed.

Howard closed his mouth, irritation swelling in his chest. “We can rotate,” he said, trying to sound firm but reasonable. “One night each in the bed.”

Vince spun on his heel. “No way,” he said, “my hair’ll be ruined.”

“My back won’t take sleeping on the floor for a month, don’t be a brat.” Name calling was hardly going to help but the look of utter contempt on Vince’s face stung. The idea of being locked together for a month was already almost unbearable, but now it was clear there was going to be nowhere to hide from Vince’s displeasure at his presence. He was furious at the whole situation.

“It ain’t my fault you’re so old,” Vince spat. “There’s no way I’m sleeping on the floor just because you hurt yourself at your stupid exercise class.” His face twisted into a scowl as he spoke. It didn’t suit him. Howard hadn’t seen that expression, the tight twist of lips and narrowed eyes, when they were younger. Vince had always been so happy, so sunny and pleased with life, with  _Howard_. He hated that expression and the way it seemed reserved exclusively for him.

“We’ll share it,” he snapped. He blinked rapidly after he spoke, an old habit that he’d thought he’d left behind, but he was so surprised that he’d actually said it, like the words had come from somewhere else entirely, he couldn’t seem to stop.

Vince recoiled. “No way,” he said. “I ain’t being in a bed with you.”

“Grow up, Vince,” he sighed. “There’s plenty of room. I’m not sleeping on the floor and so you can either share with me or  _you_ can be on the floor. Those are your options.” With that he pointedly turned to begin examining the books on the small shelf near the bed. It was like he could feel Vince’s furious stare boring into his back between his shoulder blades. He ignored it as best he could and pulled a book at random off the shelf.

“You are  _such_ a tit,” Vince snapped. It would usually be this point in an argument that Vince would slam out of the shop or flat, but there wasn’t anywhere to go, so instead he stomped over to the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

Howard took a slow seat on the bed, trying to breathe evenly. His heart was racing and his stomach was in knots. He hated arguing with Vince. Despite the fact they’d always bickered, there had rarely been any genuinely cross words when they were younger. He remembered the first time they’d actually fought, how he’d been terrified that it would be the end of their relationship, how greatful he’d been when Vince smiled at him the next morning. Things had gone back to normal quickly, but that first spike of terror lingered for a weeks afterwards. He wondered when arguing had become so normal for them. When the teasing had turned into something more real and hurtful. He couldn’t pinpoint it and trying only made him feel sad and a bit hopeless. He sighed and tried to read, even as his eyes were drawn to the closed bathroom door every few moments.

The atmosphere remained thick for the rest of the afternoon, even after Vince emerged into the bedroom to sit at the kitchen table. They had both always been stubborn, but not when it came to each other, their make-ups after a fight were usually swift - although he supposed they didn’t so much make up as they did just pretend that it hadn’t happened. But no longer, now the silences could go on for days. It was just another sign of how little Vince needed him now. Even his inability to sit still and quiet weren’t enough to compel him to speak to Howard.

It seemed like hours later when their buzzer rang and Howard to get to his feet, with great relief, to answer the door.

Gethin grinned at him, laden with their bags. “Alright?” he said with a little wave. “The lads got you some stuff for while you’re here. Hope it’s okay, they just grabbed some stuff out of your rooms and I don’t know how much Tony and Saboo know about human fashion to be honest.”

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out to take the luggage with a nod. Vince would no doubt hate whatever they’d bought, but it would have to do. “We appreciate you doing that. I’m simple a man but even I probably need more than one outfit for a month.”

“You’re alright,” Gethin assured him with a little nod. “Everything alright with the flat?”

“It’s pretty small,” Howard said before he could stop himself.

Gethin laughed. “Yeah, stingey bastards, aren’t they? I figured you guys wouldn’t mind too much, though, a little holiday for you both.”

Howard forced a smile onto his face. “Yeah, it’ll be good to spend some time together. Get away from everything.” His voice sounded flat and unconvincing even to himself.

“Well,” Gethin said, something a bit rueful about his tone, “I’m sure you’ll have a good time. There’s a fair few official events that Dennis will want you to attend, of course, but otherwise you can carry on however you want.”

Howard bit down on the exasperated sigh that wanted to escape his chest. “Yes," he said, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt. "What are they exactly?”

“Lots of things, really,” Gethin said with a shrug. “There’s a whole calendar of them around the trial, everyone is expected to attend. The first one’s tonight, in…” he looked at the old fashioned digital watch on his wrist, “an hour and a half. I’ll come back and pick you both up if you like.”

“Do we need to change?” Howard’s stomach had filled with heavy dread. They were going to be expected to act like a couple. In public. Multiple times over the coming weeks. The thought kept occurring to him whenever he thought about leaving the flat and it felt like he was drowning.

“Just a ceremony to start the whole thing off,” Gethin said. “Won’t take long.”

Howard nodded and tried not to look as miserable about it as he felt. “Okay, well in that case I better let Vince know.”

—-

Vince took the news with just a shrug before snatching the bag out of Howard's hand and going to get ready. He’d been horrified by the outfits that he’d been brought but Howard had mostly ignored him; it wasn’t like he actually wanted Howard’s opinion on what he was wearing anyway.

True to his word, Gethin arrived an hour later to escort them to the docks and into a large stone building that wasn’t there in the real Camden. Vince trailed behind Howard and Gethin. Howard didn’t need to look behind to know that he was scowling at him. It was something he should probably be used to by now, but he wasn’t. It was more distracting than when Vince used to prattle on while they were at the zoo.

They entered a large room, the high, stone walls were covered with hangings, crude tapestries that seemed to depict the Shaman Council on various adventures. Howard noticed Tony Harrison was being sick in one while Saboo looked on with an unmistakable scowl. But that was all Howard noticed before he saw what was in the middle of the room and stopped short.

Naboo was in a cage suspended from the ceiling. He was still in his full robes and turban, but he was looking decidedly rumpled. He stared up at him with a sick rising up from in his stomach  

Somehow the idea of anything bad really happening to Naboo had never actually occurred to Howard until that moment. It wasn’t the right order of things; Naboo saved them, he wasn’t the one that needed saving. He was slouched on the floor of the cage, scowling at everyone. Despite his obvious anger, he looked tired and small. It made Howard feel jittery with nerves.

“Fellow shaman, guests,” a booming voice suddenly called out. Howard turned to see Dennis had swept into the room. “We are gathered here to begin the trial of Naboo, who stands accused of a grievous crime.” The muttering and shuffling of feet slowly died away as Dennis continued, “To have lost the secrets of our sacred order is a crime punishable by death.” 

Howard could tell how much he was enjoying the attention, the pomp and circumstance. That just made him more anxious, his stomach tightening uncomfortably. Someone like that would be much harder to reason with. Not to mention they were actually there to lie.

“Naboo,” Dennis continued turning his face up toward the cage, “how do you plead?”

Naboo shuffled as far forward as the cage would allow. “Not guilty, you ballbag. I told you I wasn’t even here when it went missing.”

Dennis’ face flickered with obvious annoyance. “Very well,” he said, ignoring the slight. “Then I hereby announce the Trial of Naboo the Shaman begun.” He raised his hands dramatically but nothing happened but a long, ringing silence.  

“Tony, you pink scroat,” Saboo hissed from somewhere behind Howard, “that’s your cue. Hit the bloody cymbal.”

“Alright,” Tony huffed, “who put it on a step?”

Howard turned to see Tony attempting to climb onto a plinth so he could headbutt a massive cymbal. He struggled for several seconds before Saboo just rolled his eyes and picked up the hammer and did it himself. “Honestly,” he spat as the ringing died away, “what even is the point of you?”

“It’s not my fault I’ve been discriminated against,” Tony groused. “I’ve rung the starter cymbal for hundreds of years.”

Saboo opened his mouth to answer but Dennis was talking loudly over him and Howard turned away.

“The trial is begun,” Dennis shouted, trying to recover some sense of dramatic tension and very nearly succeeding. “All witnesses are sworn to honesty and any deception will be treated as a capital offence and they shall join Naboo in his beheading.”

Howard tried not to flinch back as Dennis’ eyes flicked to him. He realised with a sinking feeling that Vince was no longer next to him, having pointedly walked to the other side of the room.

There was a beat of silence before the low-hum of people talking began to resume around him. Howard looked about for Vince, intending to go him but Dennis was already walking toward him.

“Where is your lover?” Dennis asked, his voice hard and eyes narrowed.

“Vince is just getting some drinks,” Howard said, trying not to visibly react to the title Dennis had given him. “I was just going to find him actually. But, it was good to see you again-”

“I shall come with you,” Dennis said. “You are Naboo’s star witnesses and I would get to know you better.”

Howard stopped himself deflating by holding himself very still for a moment, and then forced himself to nod. He was going to end up losing his head, he just knew it. It was like Dennis  _knew_ they were lying. He supposed it made sense, the idea of him and Vince as a couple did seem somewhat laughable. You only had to look at them together to see that. He cast about, looking for Vince desperately. Finally he spotted him talking to Bollo.

“Ah, there he is,” he said, trying to sound upbeat as he pointed over to him and started pushing through the crowd. “Vince!” he said as he arrived.

“What do you want?” Vince snapped, turning around and glaring for a moment before clearly spotting Dennis. He froze, his eyes wide.

“Is there a problem?” Dennis said, looking between them.

“Oh,” Howard said, trying to force out a breezy laugh and missing by about a thousand miles. “It’s my fault, I made the mistake of not complimenting Vince’s outfit and he’s annoyed with me. You know how…” he trailed off, “partners can be.”   

Dennis looked at them for a moment before letting out a deep laugh. “I do! I once said I didn’t like my wife’s new wrestling bib and she got me in a headlock the likes of which I had never experienced!”

Howard laughed. “They can be so sensitive, can’t they?”

“Who’s that then?” Vince snapped.

Howard was furiously trying to silently communicate with Vince to get him to shut up, but thankfully Dennis just laughed again. “I can see you have your hands full here,” he said, slapping Howard on the back and making him stumble forward. “I shall leave you so I may converse with more important guests, but I shall be seeing you both soon.”

Howard gave him a half-hearted wave as he left. There was an awkward silence once they were alone, even Bollo didn’t seem to have anything to say to break it.

“I’m going,” Vince said suddenly, “this is rubbish and Gethin said we only had to stay for the opening bit.”

Howard nodded, not in any mood to disagree and so he fell in to step behind him as Vince made his way out of the room and back down the street. Howard’s heart was still beating fast in his chest. He couldn’t get the image of Naboo, suspended from the ceiling, looking small and worried out of his head. It was probably too late for the seriousness of the situation to be sinking in now, but it was. It felt like he ball of concrete had settled in his stomach. 

The council planned to kill Naboo - it was clear they’d already decided he was guilty - and that meant they’d be looking for any reason to do it. If he and Vince were his best defence, then they’d be looking for reasons to discredit or not believe them. This wasn’t going to be as simple as just  _saying_ they were a couple, everyone was going to have to  _believe_ it. If they gave anyone any reason to think they weren’t really together…

He swallowed down a wave of panic. He wasn’t going to be able to do it. There was no way he could pretend to be Vince’s  _partner._ It would have been unthinkable even when they were getting along, but now, when Vince hated the very sight of him, it seemed impossible.

He supposed he probably deserved it, it was exactly the sort of sick game the universe liked playing with Howard Moon. He’d thought he was going to be able to slink away from the mess he’d made; fade way from Vince without him ever knowing what it was costing Howard to do it and, perhaps, without the other man even really noticing it. There was no chance of that now. How was Howard supposed to pretend that he was okay with leaving while also pretending that he was a doting boyfriend? Because there was no doubt that was the role he’d have to play; Dennis would use any hint of a fracture between them to exploit his case against Naboo.

He sighed and tried to steal himself to talk to Vince. They were going to have to agree some fundamentals before this went too much further. The weight in his stomach seemed to grow uncomfortably. He waited until they were safely inside their little flat before speaking. Vince was pretending not to notice he was there, pottering around the small space, unpacking the clothes they’d been brought.

“I think,” he started, then ran out of words. Vince whipped his head toward him and stared. Howard swallowed heavily, Vince’s face was impassive but somehow he knew he was only seconds away from snapping something angrily at him. “We need to talk about this little ruse we’re doing.” He’d hoped that he’d sound lighthearted but his voice was too strained for that.

Vince’s whole posture stiffened. “What’s that mean?”

“Well, if we’re going to pretend to be…” he simply couldn’t make himself say ‘boyfriend’ or any permutation of it, “ _together_ , then there are some things that we should talk about first.”

“No way,” Vince said, physically backing away from Howard and the conversation.

“Vince,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “you saw Naboo; he’s in real trouble. We need to take this seriously. If we mess this up, if Dennis has any reason to doubt what we’re saying, Naboo could die, and frankly, so could we.”

Vince looked both sullen and furious which was a facial miracle. He wanted to refuse, Howard knew, but this was still Vince. He still wanted everyone to be happy, as long as they weren’t called Howard Moon, and there was no way he was going to leave his friend in danger. “Fine,” he huffed. “Whatever.”

Howard let out a slow breath. There was a lot that they’d need to discuss; they’d need a backstory and an agreement on protocol at the very least. But he didn't have the energy to discuss it. The very idea made him feel weary and sad. So instead he nodded his agreement. “Okay, good. Let’s get some sleep and we can- We can talk about this more in the morning.”

Vince glared at him, like this was  _his_ fault, which was neither fair nor unusual, but instead of reacting, he just turned and headed into the little bathroom.

He closed the door behind him and closed his eyes. This was going to be an awful few weeks. He knew already that his tattered heart wasn’t going to make it through. The best he could do was shore up his reactions, not let Vince see. That would be the final humiliation, to have his devastation over what was happening seen, and likely mocked or even met with disgust.

He leant heavily on the sink and took some deep breaths. He needed to get a grip if he was going to make it out of this with any shred of dignity.

TBC


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try and figure out how to make the best of the situation.

Vince woke feeling irritable. It was an increasingly normal feeling and he hated it. But he supposed in this instance it was understandable; the day before had been one of the worst he could remember. Howard telling him that he was finally leaving him for good would have made it that anyway, without everything that happened after it. He’d stalked into the bathroom after Howard insisted they took the whole being a pretend couple thing more seriously.

He’d taken as long as seemed feasibly possible to get ready and Howard was already asleep when he’d come back. He’d climbed carefully into the bed, not wanting to wake him and risk them having to talk again. It had taken him a long time to fall asleep; it was strange having Howard to close, even though they were as far apart on the bed as it was possible to get. It was like he could still feel him, a solid presence that he couldn’t quite ignore. It had always been like that, Vince had always known when Howard entered a room, without even having to look up, like his body was hardwired to recognise him. It used to be comforting but now it just made him feel sad and a bit lonely.

He pushed the thoughts away and climbed out of bed and headed into the shower, not wanting to be there when Howard woke up. It was weird enough sharing a bed without them having to actually acknowledge it.

Howard was sitting at the little table in the kitchen area when he got out, but he ignored him to concentrate on getting ready. Howard didn’t say anything but heaved an audible sigh before going to the bathroom. 

 

Rage bubbled in Vince’s chest for a moment. He hated when Howard acted like he was being childish, as if he himself wasn’t a massive baby about most things. Surely it was understandable that Vince didn’t want to talk to him. They were trapped together for a month and the best he could hope for was that Howard would leave him alone for most of it. 

He paced around the room, picking up clothes and putting them down without really seeing them. He’d woken feeling rattled. Not only was Naboo in serious trouble but it was clear that he and Howard were going to be under intense scrutiny the entire time they were at the trial. He’d hoped they’d just be ignored for the most part or that everyone might forget the ‘boyfriends’ thing. But it was increasingly clear that wasn’t going to happen. He’d felt panicked on their walk home, and Howard cornering him and demanding that they take the pretence seriously just made it worse. It wasn’t like Vince wasn’t taking it seriously, but the idea of having to pretend that he loved Howard was the worst type of punishment be could have been given. Especially when Howard didn’t feel even friendship toward him.

He took a deep breath. He was just going to have to get through it. Naboo needed him and he wasn’t going to let him down. He’d just have to push all his feelings down as far as they’d go and get on with it. It wasn’t like they needed to pretend other than when they were out. He could do that. He took another breath and closed his eyes. He could probably do that.

Howard emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and looking serious a few minutes later. Vince wished he’d at least done his hair; he felt vulnerable being only half ready when Howard was fully dressed. 

 

“There are some things we should discuss,” he began, like he was about to be sentenced to death himself. “We need to agree some things before we continue.”

He looked expectantly at Vince but all he could do was shrug. He knew where Howard was probably going with this and he didn’t like it one bit.

Howard took a deep breath and placed his hands flat on the table. “We should agree things about our relationship,” he said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Vince clenched his jaw a tightly as he could. “Like how we got together, for example, in case people ask. We need to say the same thing. We should,” he swallowed and pulled down his shirt, clearly uncomfortable, “we should have some ground rules about how we act towards each other.”

Vince’s stomach plummeted. This was absolutely the worst thing Howard could want to discuss. The fact he was totally right just made him angrier. There was too much that he wanted to say, most of it probably hurtful, so instead of starting a fight he shrugged again.

He could see Howard taking a deep breath, even as he was trying not to look at him, as if Vince was testing his patience. He wasn’t sure if that made him pleased or more annoyed at him.

“Okay,” Howard started, “let’s start with the basics. How long have we been together?”

Vince wanted to shrug again, but pushed down on the urge. Howard was trying to help Naboo. It wasn’t his fault that Vince had made up the lie to begin with. He knew that. He just also couldn’t help wanting to thump him every time he opened his mouth. “Well, it’s got to be before your last birthday,” he started. “So, about eighteen months?”

“Good,” Howard said, he sounded relieved, perhaps because Vince was now actually talking to him. “So, then, perhaps we could have got together while we were on our way to America? Those timings would work out.”

“No,” Vince said flatly. The memory of that trip still stung and Howard causally taking the memory of him rejecting Vince’s company for an imaginary arsehole and trying to turn into something romantic made in furious. There was something almost cruel about it that made Vince’s chest tight. He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling and the very idea of what Howard was suggesting. Howard was looking at him perplexed, though, so he was forced to continue. “Just makes sense that there was loads of alcohol involved right? So, my birthday is more realistic.” They’d at least got on that night. Howard had made him a cake and got him some new material he’d been after. It had almost been like old times. Almost.

“Fine,” Howard said, he looked vaguely annoyed which made no sense but then Vince had long ago given up trying to understand him and his moods. “That’s an easy date to remember at least. So, what happened? People might want to know the details.”

“No they won’t,” Vince snapped immediately. The whole conversation was making him feel hot and anxious and it was making his voice high-pitched and angry. “I don’t wanna think about that!” Which was definitely true; the very idea made his skin itch.

Howard had gone rigid, like he was fighting to keep in an angry tirade. The sight made Vince want to smash things; they’d even given up properly fighting about things, like it wasn’t even worth it. “Fine,” Howard sighed, “I’m sure we’ll come up with something if we’re asked, just make sure you tell me what you’ve told people-”

“As if I’m going to want to talk about it,” Vince snapped. Another truth, he wondered if Howard could see that it was because of how much it hurt to even think about. He tried to arrange his face into a scowl to cover it.

“Fine,” Howard snapped, his mouth pressed down into a thin line for a moment, “you know if you’re not even going to try and help with this, I don’t know why I’m bothering. It’s not like this is pleasant for me either.”

“Whatever,” Vince snapped, “it’s not like anyone will care you’re with me, but if it gets out that I’m dating a some geography teacher-wannabe then my street cred will be ruined.”

“Of course,” Howard said, his face morphing from something that might have been upset into condescension, “your bloody friends of the week are more important than the life of one of your oldest friends. Why am I not surprised?”

The words hurt, more than he was prepared for, and he reeled back for a moment. “Fuck you,” he managed after a moment, “you don’t even like Naboo and he don’t like you. I’m his actual friend so don’t tell me how I feel about it.”

That blow landed, he could see it in the way Howard deflated, he just about had time to feel almost guilty before Howard was speaking again. “You wouldn’t know real friendship if it slapped you about the face. How many friends have you managed to keep? No wonder you have to find new ones every week, you’re impossible to be around. But, fine, you have Naboo -  _ your boss and landlord  _ \- I don’t care. I’m only here for another few weeks and then we can stop pretending altogether.”

Vince was probably seconds away from crying. He needed to get out of the conversation. “Good!” he yelled. “Can’t come soon enough!”

“Great!” Howard shouted back and then he was pushing back from the table, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

Vince waited a few minutes before letting a few tears trickle out of his eyes. He didn’t know how Howard managed to keep hurting him so much. He kept thinking it wasn’t possible to care anymore but every fight still managed to cut him. He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath. They didn’t have long until they needed to leave to go to the next event - some lunch thing with the council and the various people involved in the trial according to the itinerary on the board above the kitchen table. Vince scowled up at it, it was like it tormenting him with how much time they’d have to spend together. How long he’d have to spend pretending.

Really, he should be used to it by now; it felt like he was spending most of his time these days pretending in one way or another. Pretending that he didn’t feel sad, pretending that he was having a good time, pretending not to feel anxious and worried about what people thought. But mostly, pretending not to be tired. 

 

He sighed and rubbed very carefully under his eyes so he didn’t smudge his make-up.

—-

It was five minutes before they had to leave when Howard emerged from the bathroom. He looked calm and collected again, like their argument might not have happened. “Vince,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I know the next few weeks are going to be… difficult.” Vince tried not to snort at the understatement. “But, us being at each other’s throats isn’t going to help anyone. We need to work together if we’re going to get through this. Can we just… Can we just try not to have a repeat of what just happened?”

Vince wanted to snap back that it wasn’t him that kept starting the fights. But that would probably only prove Howard’s point. Besides, however much his condescending tone and the implication that it was somehow Vince’s fault made him want to kick Howard in the shin, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t also right. Vince didn’t want to fight either, he didn’t have a month of fights like that one in him. “Yeah,” he said, staring down at the floor and shrugging. “I guess.”

“Good,” Howard said slowly. “Are you ready to go?”

Vince nodded and Howard copied the action before smoothing down his shirt like he was preparing for something awful. Vince climbed to his feet from where he’d been sat on the bed. He should probably check how he looked before they left, but he couldn’t muster the energy. Instead he followed Howard out of the flat silently.

They paused before opening the door to the street. Howard gave him a little look before he reached out and took Vince’s hand in his own. It made Vince jump in surprise and yank his hand away. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

Howard glared at him before sighing heavily. “I’m holding your hand,” he said, as though Vince were the stupidest person to ever live.

“I know that, you berk,” Vince snapped back. “I mean why are you holding my hand?”

“Because,” Howard said, his teeth gritted, “we’re meant to be in a relationship. People who are in relationships hold hands. Unless you’ve decided that you would rather get Naboo and us beheaded by not making this in anyway convincing?”

There wasn’t really anything Vince could say to that, so he just glared as hard as he could before snatching Howard’s hand back. It was still somehow a shock when Howard clasped his hand back. It wasn’t a hard grip, but it was firm. They were holding hands.

He might have imagined Howard’s hands would be clammy and cold. But they weren’t. They were big and warm; he could feel a callus on Howard’s thumb. His fingers were long enough to completely engulf Vince’s hand. 

 

It was such a familiar feeling that it was suddenly like he  was little again, when Howard would hold his hand on their way home from school sometimes. It had always made him feel safe. 

 

He scowled.

“Only babies hold hands like this,” he snapped. He moved their hands and forced his fingers between Howard’s, not wanting to be reminded of their past and how much things had changed. He realised his mistake immediately; this position was much more intimate. The way their fingers slid together made him want to shiver. Instead he froze, horror trickling down his spine. Howard gave him an odd look, but he forced himself not to look at him, instead dragging him out of the front door.

***

Howard’s hand was starting to get a bit clammy as they walked down the street. He pulled at the heel of his hand, attempting to get a breeze between where it was intertwined with Vince’s; he didn’t want this to be another thing Vince used to insult him with later.

The way Vince had laced their fingers together had been… unexpected. He was right, he supposed, this was the way most couples seemed to hold hands. But, now it was like Howard could think of nothing else. The press of Vince’s hand in his own was foreign and strange… but, not actually bad. Having Vince close to him had never really been anything other than soothing. But he was hyper aware of it, of how much Vince must be hating that contact, and it left him feeling jittery.

He had no idea how to go about fooling people into thinking that they were a real couple. For one thing they must look absurd, no one would think it made any sense, even with Vince’s clothes a little more subdued than they had been of late. Vince was clearly… He didn’t want to let the thought continue; he’d spent more than enough time brooding on the fact that they were not compatible, as friends or anything else. It was self-evident. But somehow he had to make people believe it. He just had no idea what would make someone like Vince, or indeed anyone at this point, fall in love with him. It didn’t matter how many books he might have read on the subject, none of them seemed like they could apply to him.

They were approaching the building where Naboo was being kept and the venue for their lunch; he needed to think of something. He supposed he would need to fall back on memories of what made them friends in the first place. They seemed as unattainable as the idea of Howard as a romantic partner, but he at least knew he’d done it once. Then, he’d just have to try and layer on some things he’d seen couples do.

It was a better idea than any he’d had, so he steeled himself as they approached the heavy doors of the building, and stepped forward so he was in the lead. He pushed on the door and held it while Vince trailed in behind him. The tiny act of chivalry either wasn’t noticed or acknowledged, but it was better than being told off, so he supposed it was something to work from.

The room was heaving with people when they entered. His fingers tightened around Vince’s almost involuntarily. With so many people watching, he was going to need to put on a convincing show. He was an actor, capable of reducing audiences to tears. He could do this.

“We should go and see Dennis,” he said, leaning down so he could speak directly into Vince’s ear, not wanting to be overhead. Vince stiffened at the proximity, but Howard forced himself not to jerk away like he wanted to. They both needed to get used to it. “If we get it over with, maybe he’ll be less likely to sneak up on us unexpectedly.”

Vince nodded his head just once, but didn’t speak. Howard supposed it was better than nothing, even if it was unsettling to see him so quiet. The shaman weren’t hard to spot, standing in the centre of the room, under where Naboo had been suspended the day before, in their colourful robes. Howard started toward them, tugging Vince behind him. He had to admit that holding his hand had its uses; at least Vince couldn’t suddenly disappear leaving him to deal with the situation alone. They were standing directly in front of the group before Howard realised that he didn’t have the faintest clue how to start conversation. The group turned to them immediately and looked at them expectantly.  

He stood in silence for a moment, trying to think of something, anything, to say. He was too aware of every way he could say the wrong thing and out them. In the end he looked back at Vince in sheer desperation who blinked at him before seeming to realise what he was silently asking.

“Alright?” he said with a customary grin. It looked a little fixed but perhaps no one else would notice that. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Dennis smiled thinly at them and nodded his head like Vince had passed some great test. Howard relaxed.

“You have many of these trials then?” Vince asked, looking around the room, now seeming interested and engaged in the conversation.

Howard felt a familiar sense of awe at his ability to fit in in any situation. It was a skill that he seemed to have mostly already possessed when they first met; Vince was happy to chat to anyone and seemed to like everyone immediately. While it had certainly been refined over years, with layers of cool and wry humour draped over it, the basic framework was the same. It never seemed to occur to Vince that anyone would dislike him and that seemed to almost universally work. It never worked for Howard, whether he tried to affect a layer of detachment or tried to ingratiate himself, the effect was usually the opposite of what he wanted.

Their hands were still joined and he looked down at them, at how small Vince’s hand was in his own. He found himself wanting to smile at the sight which was unsettling. He looked back up but the conversation seemed to have moved on and he was now not sure what they were talking about. He cast about for a way to contribute when he noticed that the shaman were all holding drinks. He felt a warm flush of inspiration when he noticed there was a bar on the far side of the room. That was what a good partner would do. He squeezed Vince’s hand. “Drink?” he asked.

“Oh,” Vince said, looking almost startled. “Yeah, thanks Howard.”

He let go of his hand as he walked away and pushed down on the slight disappointment at the loss of contact. He was meant to hate physical contact. That’s what he’d always maintained. Although perhaps the truth was he didn’t like contact he wasn’t expecting or in control of. Vince had always been tactile, he’d found touch easier than words when they first met. They’d worked out a code consisting of a series of little touches that let Howard know what Vince was feeling. It helped and hadn’t bothered Howard at the time, although as Vince became better at communicating verbally they didn’t leave behind the touches. Howard sensed that it wasn’t normal. Friends didn’t touch each other as often as he and Vince seemed to. But it wasn’t until he was older, really not until Vince came to join him at the zoo, that it really bothered him. Somewhere along the way Vince’s touches had become scary and strange. They panicked him for reasons he wasn’t able to articulate, even to himself. Snapping at Vince to get off was an automatic reaction, even when he tried to cover it with a joke.

He ordered some drinks, pleased to find that Flirtinis were available without question. There was an awkward moment when he realised he didn’t have any money and wasn’t sure if it was even required. He loitered uncomfortably until the barman moved on to another couple without demanding payment and Howard took the drinks and headed back to the group. Vince was still holding court by the time he arrived and he almost smiled.

“Here you are,” he said, handing over the drink.

“Cheers Howard,” Vince said with a nod.

It was probably the most civil conversation they’d had in weeks; he wasn’t sure if he ought to be pleased or sad about that. “Of course,” he said. He edged closer to him, not sure if they ought to be touching or not. He didn’t know how to initiate another touch, and suspected Vince wouldn’t appreciate it, so instead he stood as close as possible without actually making contact. If Vince noticed, he made no mention of it.

“I was just asking your partner about your plans while you are with us,” Dennis said nodding at Howard.

“Plans?” he asked, feeling adrift. Everything felt weird, being with Vince had always felt familiar and safe, but with this lie it felt confusing, answering simple questions seemed fraught with potential danger. “I thought we had to stay for the trial and the official events around it.”

“Yes,” Dennis said, “but there will be time to explore during your free times.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He and Vince hadn’t done a lot of sightseeing on their trips to other worlds. It was hard to soak in the scenery while running for your life. “Ah, that sounds delightful. What would you recommend we see?”

“There are many museums and galleries-” Dennis began only to be interrupted.

“As if,” Tony cut in with a look of great disdain. “You wanna hit up the clubs of Xanneroon. They are banging.”

“Not everyone wants to get off their ever loving tits on cheap E and try to cop off with stray cats, Tony,” Saboo said. “Tourists go to our beaches, pure white sands and turquoise seas for over a hundred miles. It sounds like hell if you ask me but plenty of pasty morons head there on the daily.”

The idea of heading back to a beach with Vince when they were not getting on made Howard feel a bit queasy; the memory of their failed trip to America was still fresh in his mind. His look of dismay must have been obvious because Dennis cut in again. “Perhaps you would prefer something more adventurous? We have mountains, lakes, deserts, and jungles.” He paused to stare at them. “Do none of these appeal to you? Perhaps you find our world lacking in some way?”

If Howard had somehow forgotten they were still semi-prisoners, at the will of a somewhat unstable shaman, the look on Dennis’ face made the case very strongly for remembering and compiling. “Oh,” he said, “no, of course not. They all sound brilliant.”

Dennis nodded. “Then which would you attend?”

“Oh, erm,” Howard squirmed under the gaze. He seemed to have a litany of terrible experiences in all of those locations. There was one, though, that held some affection for him despite his own personal experiences. “Perhaps the jungle?”

Dennis relaxed and inclined his head. “A worthy choice.”

Howard let out a breath, pleased to have past the test. “Where are they?”

Dennis smiled thinly. “They are many miles away, but I can escort you both there tomorrow on my way through those lands.”

Howard hadn’t considered the fact they’d have to go together, he hadn’t meant to speak for Vince. But, hadn’t the other man been going on about how much he missed the jungle for years? He turned to look at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He was looking a bit thoughtful but he hadn’t said anything. “What do you think?” he asked, not liking Vince’s silence. “I thought it might be like a trip home?”

Vince’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. It was weird, Vince didn’t normally attempt to hide his emotions and it made Howard wonder what it meant. After a moment he took a sip of his drink and raised a shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

Howard relaxed. The idea of them trekking through the jungle was probably a terrible one, but at least he’d avoided a fight for the moment. That was the story of his life, really, he’d do just about anything to avoid an uncomfortable situation, including putting himself into a series of slightly different awkward situations.

“Very well,” Dennis said, like a royal decree. “I shall escort you there in the morning. I shall send instructions before then.”

Howard nodded in agreement and was just wondering how he ought to move the conversation on when Tony bellowed, “Food!”

Howard turned and found a stream of servers had arrived to line the various tables with plates of food. It all looked strange and oddly coloured. He tried to reign in a sigh. He wasn’t what you might call adventurous with food, but Vince was worse - if it wasn’t familiar, easy or covered in sugar, he tended to turn his nose up.

“Do you want to sit down?” Howard asked, turning to Vince. “I’ll get us some food and come find you.”

Vince gave him another strange look but nodded his head and walked away. Howard gave a little nod toward the shaman before hurrying over to the table. He stared at the plates wondering what it was. They hadn’t eaten much of anything over the last day and he was starving, Vince must be too, although he hadn’t said anything. He was staring at the food feeling a bit lost when someone appeared at his side.

“Good spread this,” they said, “they’re usually tight as anything so this is a treat.”

Howard smiled at Gethin, trying to seem polite. “I’m afraid I don’t know what any of it is. I don’t suppose you could-”

“No worries,” he said, beaming and clapping Howard on the shoulder. “I’ll talk you through it.”

Howard wobbled his way over to Vince a few minutes later, carrying too much food, but he hadn’t wanted to miss anything out or not have something Vince would actually eat. Vince looked up from where he was talking to a middle-aged woman in brightly coloured robes.

“Hi,” Howard said, placing the plates down carefully before taking a seat. “You must be starving, so I got one of everything I’d thought you’d like.”

Vince stared at the food like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Howard paused from loading up something that was, according to Gethin, going to resemble a cheese sandwich. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about Vince’s expression that reminded him again of when they’d first met. He looked small and a bit lost, but he knew he wasn’t going to ask for help. Vince had always found food difficult, but it had been worse when they first met. He’d not really understood the concept of mealtimes, not liking how much he was expected to eat, or usually what either. Howard had found, mostly through trial and error, that it was about appearance and texture more than flavour when it came to getting Vince to actually eat. Eventually he’d managed to coax Vince into eating more than a couple of mouthfuls before insisting he didn’t want anything else. It had got better over the years but when he was stressed he tended to fall back into his old eating patterns. If things got bad Howard would usually end up making a cake and leaving it out. Vince wouldn't be able to resist eating it and after that he seemed able to eat other things too. He grazed, eating more like a bird than a person, but Howard didn’t mind that.

He felt a pang of such fondness and melancholy for a moment, thinking about those time, of all the time they'd spent to together and no longer would, that he was paralysed. He swallowed and put down his own food. He grabbed a bowl and pulled it to toward Vince. “Here,” he said, his voice low and gentle not wanting to startle him, “this is basically chocolate mousse.”

Vince turned to look at him, a frown on his face. He looked for a moment like he might not actually believe him.

Howard ignored him, it was never an exact science and it was never sure a thing that Vince would eat anything he made him. “This is cheese,” he continued, like he couldn’t see Vince’s expression, ‘this is a bit like sticky toffee pudding and this is tomato soup.”

Vince still didn’t move, but Howard could see that he was looking at him.

“Try this,” Howard said, handing over his own sandwich. “I’ll make another one. It’s just cheese - it’s mild but creamy.”

He could see Vince’s mouth quirk, like he’d hoped it would.

“I’ll be back,” he said. He loaded up another plate of food and another one just to be safe, neither of them had eaten in the last day and they could do with the sustenance.

He placed the plate down in front of Vince silently before taking his own seat. The woman sitting next to Vince leaned in to stage whisper to him, “You’ve got yourself a keeper there, my husband never remembers what I like.”

Howard froze. Despite the number of times people assumed them to be a couple, it never made him feel comfortable. Even now, when they desperately  _ needed _ people to believe it, the wrongness of it made him feel uncomfortable. He tried to make out Vince’s expression without turning his head, but the other man had ducked his head.

“Yeah,” he said, softly, “knew that the day I met him.”

 

The woman said something else but Howard didn’t hear it. He was too busy staring at his plate and trying not to ruin his sandwich by holding it too hard. He was going to need to get used to Vince saying nice things about him, but it sounded ridiculous, surely everyone else could see that too. 

 

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the meal. Even Dennis’ speech passed in a blur, as Howard tried not to let the sick feeling of anxious terror engulf him. This was simply never going to work. 

 

TBC


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys struggle to keep up the charade of their relationship but start to learn a thing or two in the process

Dennis, true to his word, picked them up the next day on his carpet. Howard never wanted to think about the subsequent journey ever again. He’d closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists as they’d taken off. A few years ago Vince probably would have made fun of him, but the other man remained quiet. After awhile he seemed to remember that they might be being watched and reached out to take Howard's hand. It was comforting and Howard was able to peak an eye open to watch the scenery go by in a blur of colour below them.

 

They landed at the base of a hill, where the canopy of forest was less dense. Dennis gave them a brief nod before suggesting that he would meet them at the top of the hill on his return in a few hours. Apparently there was a huge tree that they could meet at.

 

Howard and Vince stood side by side, their shoulders almost brushing, and watched Dennis disappear over the tops of the trees in silence.

 

“So,” Vince said, startling Howard, “you wanna climb his hill or what?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Howard said with a nod, trying to seem less like he was dreading the experience than he felt.

 

He failed if the slight raise at the corners of Vince’s mouth was anything to go by. “Come on,” he said.

 

They began their trek in silence but Howard was too consumed with listening out for potentially dangerous wildlife to notice. It was tough going, the ground was uneven and seemingly designed to trip you. He picked up a long stick to help aid his balance, and because he fancied it might give him the air of a great explorer, but he stumbled more than he managed successful strides.

 

It was a few minutes later that the realisation that Vince hadn’t spoken since Dennis left began to seep in. He turned his head and found him looking about the trees with such an open look of fondness that his heart seized. He snuck looks out of the corner of his eye in between watching out for stray roots and poisonous animals. He hadn’t seen Vince look so relaxed in ages.

 

“Do you miss it?” He tried to ask it casually. Vince didn’t talk much about his early childhood and Howard didn’t like to pry; he knew that the constant moving around hadn’t really been good for Vince, but they’d never discussed it.

 

Vince paused, watching Howard steadily for a moment. Then he shrugged. “I guess, sometimes. It’s simpler here.”

 

“What do you mean?” Howard looked around at the foliage and potential for death under every leaf and couldn’t quite imagine finding it simpler than London.

 

“Just, you know where you are with animals,” Vince said.

 

He nodded. “Dead, usually.”

 

Vince’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Not if you know how to talk to them,” he pointed out. “They’re mostly fine once you get to know them. But, at least you know. Humans are tricky sometimes.”

 

He knew what Vince meant. 

 

“Remember when we first met and I didn’t even really know about lying?” Vince was smiling at the memory, but there was something a bit rueful, or maybe wistful, about it.

 

He did remember. He remembered the cold dread at the other kids telling Vince all manner of nonsense and Vince’s wide-eyed acceptance of it. He didn’t understand the impulse to leap in front of the other boys, to shield Vince from their words, but it had made his hands ball into fists and a tight knot form in his stomach. Although he’d often failed to protect Vince over the years, the impulse had remained. It had seemed much simpler when they were younger. “Yes,” he said after a moment, “you’d have been drinking out the toilet if I hadn’t stepped in.”

 

Vince half smiled. “Harsh of them to flush your head for telling me.”

 

The memory still filled him with embarrassed anxiousness. He gripped the stick in his hand tightly and tried to smile. “That’s as may be,” he said, “but you probably shouldn’t have bitten Jimmy.”

 

Vince’s smile was now fully formed and Howard felt his lips tugging, wanting to mirror it. “I thought I was gonna get chucked out of school on my first day. It were good that you did such quick talking to Mr Godstone.”

 

“It was only fair,” Howard replied.

 

He’d forgotten about that, at how small and scared Vince had looked as the Headmaster paced in front of him, talking about rules and expectations. Howard had never been able to gather the nerve to talk back to a teacher before, but he couldn’t let Vince suffer for trying to help him. It wasn’t right.

 

That had been the first day they met. It was an odd thought, how strongly he’d already felt about looking after Vince.

 

“Thanks,” he said, after a moment, “for biting him. I, err, I don’t think I said it at the time but it meant a lot. No one had… I didn’t have someone….” He ran out of words.

 

He stopped walking when he realised that Vince was no longer at his side. He turned back to find that he was staring at him, frozen in place with an unreadable expression on his face. Howard paused, suddenly worried that he’d managed to mess up what had been a relatively nice moment.

 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Vince said in the end, finally looking away. “It’s what friends do.”

 

“But we weren’t even friends then,” he pointed out. Sometimes it seemed like Vince didn’t want to be told that he was good person. Attractive? Stylish? A good frontman? Yes. But a good person? He seemed to shy away from that. Howard had no idea why.

 

Vince looked at him like he was mad. “Of course we were,” he said. “We were from the moment you didn’t let me take a drink; you could of hung out with all them cool kids but you didn’t. You looked out for me even though I was young.”

 

Howard hadn’t thought of it like that before. Perhaps that had been a sliding doors moment, perhaps he’d given up his chance of being ‘normal’, of having cool friends, then and there. He wondered briefly what his life would have been like. Perhaps he’d have married, had some children and a career.

But he couldn’t regret the decision. No matter what might have happened, any life without Vince seemed small and grey.

 

It was what was waiting for him when they were finished here.

 

Instead of saying any of that, he smiled. “Well, I had to. I couldn’t let something like that happen to you; it wasn’t right.”

 

“Yeah,” Vince said slowly, looking almost sad, “I guess so.”

 

He’d said the wrong thing, he could tell, but he wasn’t sure why. “Shall we get on?” he asked after a moment. “We’ve only got a couple of hours until Dennis is coming back.”

 

“Yeah,” Vince said softly, before making his way past Howard and through the undergrowth. Howard watched him, reluctant to leave the moment of connection behind, but in the end took a deep breath and followed behind.

 

By the time Dennis found them, Vince was trying to convince Howard that he ought to climb the tree on the top of the hill. It was as magnificent as Dennis had suggested it would be; its massive branches bent almost to Howard’s head and twisted up into the canopy of trees above. Howard was trying to refuse to give climbing it a go without giving away his fear of heights. Vince had scaled the tree and climbed back down two or three times but it did little to put Howard’s fears to rest. They were bickering but there was none of the heat to it that had been there over the last few months. Vince was flushed with the exercise and amusement at Howard when Dennis stepped into the clearing.

 

“You didn’t die,” the Shaman said, like he was caught between being impressed and disappointed.

 

“Not yet,” Howard agreed, getting to his feet from where he’d been sitting on a log. It had be a remarkably uneventful few hours. It was nice. Surprising. But undeniably nice. 

 

“This was genius,” Vince said, dropping from the lowest branch onto the soft ground beneath. “Thanks for bringing us.”

 

Dennis inclined his head. “It was my pleasure,” he said slowly. “But now we must be getting back. You are expected at the evening’s feast I would give you time to change. I have business at the end of the week, I will take you to another destination.”

 

“Yeah,” Vince said immediately, to Howard’s surprise. “How about the mountains next time, eh Howard? Maybe you can get a picture of some exotic animal for your magazine.”

 

Howard blinked in surprise at Vince’s enthusiasm but managed to nod his head. “Yes,” he said. “That sounds good.”

 

The rest of the day continued to be uneventful. An ease seemed to have settled over them that had been missing for months. It was nice to look at Vince and not expect an eyeroll at best or, more likely, a scowl. Howard found himself relaxing, even the dinner seemed easy enough. Now it didn’t seem like Vince was going to snap at him, he found it easier to engage in conversation with him and the people around him. He felt good, almost hopeful they could make it through the next few weeks by the time they left.

 

They walked home in silence, Howard looking up at the stars. It was strange to think they were different to the ones over real London. He supposed the fact that he could see them at all must be some form of magic, or perhaps the light was different here. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realise Vince was looking at him until they were nearly at the flat.

 

“What?” he asked, tension creeping back in at the odd look on the other man’s face.

 

Vince dropped his gaze. “Nothing,” he said, slowly. “Let’s talk about it inside.”

 

There was no reason for Howard’s heart to be pounding, he told himself firmly as he followed Vince inside. It didn’t help. “What is it?” he asked, his voice harder than he’d expected as soon as the door was closed.

 

“Nothing,” Vince said, turning to look at him. “I just…” He looked agitated.

 

“Did something happen at dinner?” Howard asked, panic starting to set in. “Did you give something away?”

 

“What?” Vince looked annoyed briefly. “No, I’m not an idiot.” He sighed and balled his hands a few times while Howard watched him in confusion. “It’s just… Do you think we should maybe try a kiss?” He said the words slowly, as though tiptoeing around a landmine.

 

Howard turned to look at him sharply. “A kiss?”

 

Vince swallowed and nodded. He looked a little apprehensive, which was understandable. The thought of kissing someone he didn’t like might well give Howard a similar expression. “I think it might look weird that we never kiss?” Vince fidgeted with his hair. “I mean, all the other couples seem to kiss all the time, not proper snogs or nothing, but you know. Little ones.”

 

Howard did know what he meant. Dennis and his wife had been very affectionate with each other. He really didn’t want to draw attention to them by looking unrealistic. “Has someone said something?” he asked, trying to figure out why Vince was suddenly asking.

 

“No,” Vince said slowly. “But, it’s better that we do something before someone does, right?”

 

Howard nodded. He wanted to point out that they could just say they were English and unnecessarily displays of affection weren’t needed, but he knew that would just be because he was uncomfortable, not because he really meant it. So instead he nodded again. “Okay,” he agreed, hoping the matter was over but Vince was looking at him expectantly and he blinked rapidly. “What? Now?”

 

Vince rolled his eyes. “Look, Howard, I know you ain’t used to kissing and I don’t want you to freak out if I go in when there’s other people there.”

 

He felt his neck prickle uncomfortably with embarrassment. “So you’re suggesting a practice session? Right now?”

 

He felt pleased when Vince went a little pink around the cheeks himself. “Well, we can not and end up looking like complete tits in front of the council if you’d prefer.”

 

“No,” he said, even though his palms were already starting to sweat. “I mean yes, we should practice. That’s a… that’s a good idea.”

 

Howard had had plenty of time over the years to imagine what his first kiss would be like. It wasn’t that he wasn’t expecting it to happen at sword point and in the face of death, that seemed perfectly in keeping with his life. It was just that a part of him, in retrospect an annoyingly large part of him, had imagined it would be with someone that actually wanted to kiss him. He should have known better. In the months since that night, while things got worse and worse with Vince, he’d found himself regretting not making more of the kiss. He’d embarrassed himself so fully afterwards that it would have hardly made a difference if he’d taken a moment to relax and experience the kiss fully.

 

Since then he’d half imagined what he’d do the next time he was lucky enough to be on the receiving end – or better yet, on the giving end – of a kiss. He’d promised himself that he’d at least enjoy it. And that it would mean something. That it would be with someone who wanted him. There was a familiar sinking feeling as that little fantasy drifted away. Vince no more wanted to kiss him now than he had then. Less, if anything. The sword might be implied this time, but it was still very real.

 

He tried not so let his thoughts show on his face as he took a step forward into Vince’s personal space. The other man looked a bit taken aback, perhaps at Howard’s forwardness, but he was just determined to get it over with.

 

“Okay?” he asked, not wanting to overstep and needing to check again that Vince really didn’t mind it.

 

“Yeah,” he said, blinking up at him. His eyes looked huge this close and startlingly blue.

 

Sometimes Howard forgot how beautiful Vince was. People seemed to talk about it so often that it almost faded into a background noise, but it was hard to deny when they were this close. Howard had always admired his pale skin and how it now stood in such stark contrast to his dark hair.

 

Vince’s eyes fluttered closed as he rocked up onto his toes so their mouths were almost touching. He’d expected the other man to go straight in for a kiss like he had on the roof, but he paused before they made contact. Perhaps it was out of courtesy. Or maybe it was challenge.

 

Howard closed his eyes and closed the distance between them. It was just a soft press of lips, gentle and sweet. Howard couldn’t help the little sigh as he pulled back, but he didn’t get very far because Vince followed him and gave him another kiss, just as gently as before, but slightly longer. His hands itched to reach out, but he kept them respectfully as his sides.

 

“Okay?” he asked, when Vince pulled back. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking, perhaps he just wanted to check that Vince wasn’t totally repulsed.

 

The other man blinked at him. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Okay.”

 

Howard wished that he could read the other man’s expression, but his face was totally closed off. There was a time when Howard had been able to read his every expression, but he’d lost the knack over the years, or more likely Vince had leant to hide them. He missed it, missed knowing exactly what to say to get the other man to smile.

 

“Right,” he said and swallowed. “So, we should do that tomorrow? At- at the lunch?”

 

Vince blinked like he was confused by the question before nodding. “Oh, yeah, absolutely.”

 

“How- how often should we do it?” Howard felt stupid, his lack of experience making him feel small and silly but he desperately didn’t want to mess up in front of an audience or risk unsettling the peace that had settled between him and Vince.

 

“I dunno,” Vince said, fidgeting with his hair. Howard suddenly remembered that for all Vince might date, might even go home with those dates, he’d never had a girlfriend. He seemed uninterested in the very idea, getting bored with whoever he was seeing within a couple of weeks and moving onto someone else. Howard understood it; it was hard to keep Vince’s attention at the best of times and that probably went doubly for romantic suitors. They would need to work incredibly hard to keep him. The thought made him feel sad and hopeless but he shook it off; there were more important things to consider than something he’d been pondering off and on for years.

 

“Well,” he said, “I suppose we should try to keep it as natural as possible, so whenever we feel appropriate.” Vince looked uncertain, which was probably fair. When would it ever feel natural for him to want to kiss Howard? He tried to suppress a sigh. “Okay, well, let’s start with when one of us needs to leave a conversation?”

 

Vince nodded at that. “And, I guess, if one of us does something nice?”

 

“Yes,” he agreed, “it does seem to be used as a form of showing gratitude.”

 

That earned him an eyeroll but it wasn’t as heated as some so Howard let it go. “Okay, right.” There was a long pause. “Did you want to try it again before bed? Just in case?”

 

Vince had a slightly worried look on his face again, it made the back of Howard’s neck prickle with embarrassment. “Was I really that…?” He trailed off, his face heating. He

 

Vince shook his head. “Nah,” he said, looking at the floor. “You were fine, Howard, I just… I’m worried about it looking like we ain’t really done it before.”

 

“Well,” he said slowly. “Perhaps we should…” He left the sentence hanging while he tried to gather the courage to continue. “It might be better to do it at the flat too? If we continue it when we’re alone, there’s less chance of us messing up.” It was a sensible plan. It was becoming increasingly clear they were both going to need all the practice they could get at being someone’s boyfriend. It was a sensible plan, just like all the plans Howard came up with. He was a man of action and good sense. It was nothing to do with the fact his lips were still tingling from the previous kiss and that his hands were itching to reach out.

 

“Oh,” Vince said, his face flushing and looking down at his boots. “Yeah, alright, if you want.”

 

“Well,” he said, “I mean… I think it’s a good idea. To get used to things.”

 

“Cool,” he said. Then he rocked up, reaching out to balance himself on Howard’s shoulders and dropped a kiss on his lips.

 

Howard’s eyes fluttered shut and his hand went out to rest on Vince’s waist. He waited for Vince to pull back but when he didn’t he brought his other hand up to his waist as well. Vince’s arms wrapped around Howard’s neck for a moment as he leaned in and then pulled back. It was a innocent kiss, perhaps less than you might expect in a church, but they were both a bit pink by the time they pulled back.

 

“Right,” Howard said, and cleared his throat. “That was… That was better.”

 

“Yeah,” Vince said, his voice small and quiet.

 

Howard nodded. “Right, well, we should- err- We should get some sleep.”

 

Vince nodded and took a step back, he was about to turn for the bathroom but paused and leant down to kiss Vince on the forehead. Better get on with it. Vince’s mouth twitched, almost like he was suppressing a laugh. Perhaps Howard’s technique still left something to be desired. He didn’t dare ask, instead he turned and hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.

He lent back against the door and closed his eyes for a moment. This was getting out of hand. How could he be expected to continue like this for the next few weeks? There was no way.

 

He sighed and went to the sink to wash his face. He didn’t have a choice, there was no point in sulking about it. He got ready quickly and slipped into bed while Vince was using the bathroom. He turned away from the door, not knowing what to say and wanting to avoid conversation. Vince was quiet as he exited the bathroom and got into bed next to him. He clicked off the lamp and they lay in silence for a long moment.

 

“Thanks for suggesting we go to the jungle today,” Vince said slowly. “It was nice to see it again.”

 

Howard smiled to himself, pleased Vince couldn’t see how wide it was. “You’re very welcome. I had a nice time.”

 

“Yeah?” Vince asked. “Even though you couldn’t climb that tree?”

 

“I told you, it wasn’t that I couldn’t climb it, it was that I didn’t want to. My physical prowess is well documented, sir, I have no need to show it off for someone else’s whim.” He imagined the grin on Vince’s face as he answered.

“That why you kept falling over tree stumps? To show you don’t have anything to prove?”

 

Howard allowed a smile to form. “Yes, precisely.”

 

There was another few moments of silence. “Night, Howard.”

 

“Goodnight Vince.”

 

***

 

Vince work the next morning confused and anxious. It wasn’t unusual for him to feel that way when he woke these days. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, lying still, looking at the ceiling as he replayed the day before. He’d been surprised when Howard suggested the jungle but pleased that he’d come up with something that Vince might actually enjoy for once. He hadn’t expected them to end up reminiscing or getting along for the first time in months. He’d felt anxious even then, worried about when it would all fall apart, when he’d say the wrong thing and Howard would snap at him.

 

It didn’t happen. Perhaps that was why he’d suggested the kiss. He’d spent the evening watching the other couples closely and it became increasingly clear that he and Howard were very different. It wasn’t just the kissing, although that seemed easier to address than the rest of it. He wasn’t sure how to explain the casual affection between the other couples, so he’d gone with the simplest. At least it had seemed the simplest until they’d actually kissed.

 

He balled his hands into fists and pushed the thoughts away. It was stupid to even think about it. he forced himself out of bed and bumped into Howard who was just coming out of the bathroom.

 

“Ah,” Howard said, “good, err, good morning.” Then he leant down and placed a kiss on Vince’s cheek.

 

Vince’s first instinct was to flinch away. He hadn’t expected Howard to remember their agreement, let alone go through with it. But he wasn’t going to be the one to put a stop to it. He couldn’t be the one that let Naboo down by betraying that he wasn’t used to being touched like that, not by anyone but especially Howard. So instead he accepted the kiss reached out to squeeze Howard’s hand instead. “Morning,” he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he really felt before making his escape into the bathroom.

 

They held hands on the way to lunch. That was starting to feel more natural at least. It was almost comforting if he didn’t think about it too closely. Howard’s hand almost covered his entirely, and it still made him feel safe, even as that thought made him anxious.

 

It was the same format as the other events they’d been to; Dennis and the rest of the council milling about looking important while everyone else gorged on the free drink and food. No wonder there was everyone was so excited about the trial; it was a month-long party for everyone else while Naboo was all alone in his cell. Thankfully after that first night, he wasn’t suspended from the ceiling anymore. Bollo was apparently sleeping near his cell, because Vince hadn’t seen him since the first day. He missed him, but it was probably for the best because Bollo was a terrible liar. He was also forgetful so the chances were they’d have been outted already if he’d stuck around.

 

Vince found them a table while Howard dealt with  getting them some food. He sat down next to an older lady, with purple skin and dark eyes. She was wearing glittering robes that Vince had been drawn to all the way across the room.

 

“Alright?” he said, as he took a seat. “I’m Vince, is it alright if me and boyfriend sit here?” The word felt clunky on his tongue, but he had no idea what else he was meant to call Howard. He knew the other man hated the word ‘boyfriend’ but there was no way he calling him ‘partner’ like they were in business together or something.

 

She smiled up at him. “No, have a seat young…” she looked at him again, “man,” she finished.

 

Saboo and Tony had mostly brought him his older clothes, some jeans and blouses, rather than the jumpsuits he’d taken to wearing more recently. It was dimming his ability to be the confuser, but it wasn’t like anyone important was here, so his status was safe. “Your robes are genius,” he said as he sat down.

 

They were deep in conversation about where the best places to buy fabric were in Fake Camden when Howard came back. He placed a plate down in front of Vince, it looked the same as their last lunch which he was pleased about. He wasn’t much one for trying loads of weird new food.

 

“Thanks Howard,” he said, then screwed up his courage to drop a kiss on his cheek.

 

Howard smiled at him. To his surprise it looked genuine. “You’re very welcome.”

 

It was a strange moment, stilted and unnatural. There hadn’t been that many kind words between them of late. Vince wondered when the last time he’d thanked Howard had been. He didn’t get as many homecooked meals anymore, but there was often leftovers for him when he got in from a club. Surely he’d said thank you for those? He couldn’t remember but he had a sinking feeling that there was no chance because Howard usually began their day with a lecture about him being late. As if arriving at 11 when he got in at 3 was all that bad.

 

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Glenda asked kindly, leaning over to capture Vince’s attention again.

 

Vince felt himself smile, that was an easy question at least. “We met at school,” he said. He could feel Howard listening in, even though he was pretending to be focused on his food.

 

“Really?” she asked. “And you’ve been together ever since, like childhood sweethearts?”

 

“Well,” Vince said, frowning, “not exactly. We were friends for ages and ages and then we only got together recently.”

 

 “Ah,” she said. “Bit slow on the uptake was he?”

 

“You could say that,” Vince replied, hoping be didn’t sound as downbeat as the question made him feel. “I had to follow him to a zoo and convince him to move in with me and all sorts before he finally got the hint.” He plastered a smile on his face, trying to make it seem like a romantic caper rather than depressing and a bit desperate.

 

“A zoo?” she asked.

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s where we met Naboo. I went there right out of school, but Howard had been there after he dropped out of uni.” He paused to see if Howard would interject that he didn’t drop out like he usually did at this point in the story, but apparently he was still pretending he wasn’t listening. “It was great. We got to look after all the animals and hang out all day, although he used to boss me around all the time because he was older and had been there longer.”

 

She smiled knowingly at him. “I suppose there’s something to be said for being bossed around when the occasion arises.”

 

Vince’s own blush was thankfully overshadowed by Howard choking on his sandwich and needing a medical intervention.

 

****

 

Vince was nearly asleep before Howard spoke that night.

 

“Why did you tell the story like that?” he said softly.

 

“What you mean?” he asked, turning to look at Howard, but it was too dark to make out his face.

 

“Why did you make it seem like you’d been pursuing me?” he asked.

 

“You questioning my storytelling abilities?” he asked, trying to sound outraged rather than nervous.

 

“It’s just, that’s not exactly what happened is it?” Howard said after a moment.

 

“What you mean?” he asked. “Yeah it were. You went off to the zoo and then I had to come after you. _And_ you didn’t want to move in with Naboo. I had to badger you into thinking it was a good idea.”

 

“Well,” Howard said, his voice agitated. “That’s not how I remember it.”

 

“Maybe you’re going senile,” Vince said. “That’s what happened.”

 

“No,” Howard said, his voice surprisingly firm. “After I didn’t make it through uni and I met Tommy,” Vince scowled at the name even though it made him feel a bit guilty after what had happened to him, “I wrote to you telling you how great the zoo was.”

 

“Yeah,” Vince said slowly, “then I turned up and made Fossil give me a job.”

 

The memory was still a bit embarrassing, he’d been sure Howard would see through his attempt to wriggle back into his affections.

 

“No, Vince,” he said, “I told you to come and visit me. I gave you a grand tour of the zoo and told you all about how amazing it all was.”

 

Vince remembered. He remembered every detail. Howard had looked so grown up in his uniform, his moustache now real facial hair instead of the cappuccino stain he’d been sporting at college. He’d always thought Howard was attractive but seeing him again after a few months apart, had been like a sucker punch. He’d felt like a blushing school girl as Howard took his arm and showed him around the zoo.

 

“Yeah,” Vince agreed again, starting to feel frustrated and embarrassed at the reminder of his obvious crush. “So what?”

 

“Vince,” Howard sounded almost pained, “why do you think I did all of that?”

 

“To show off?” He didn’t mean it as nastily as it sounded but Howard just huffed out a little laugh.

 

“Well, yes,” he said, “I suppose so. But, that wasn’t the only reason.”

 

Vince propped himself up on his elbow. “You trying to say that you lured me to the zoo, like a sorta Child Catcher or something?” He sounded as incredulous as he felt.

 

“That’s what happened,” Howard said. “I mean, I like to think it wasn’t for nefarious reasons. But, I wanted you to come to zoo.”

 

It felt for a moment like Vince is standing on quicksand, the memories of him coming to the zoo suddenly seemed distorted and strange. “Why’d you want that?”

 

The silence stretched on for a long time, so long that Vince suspected that Howard might not answer at all. He watched the outline of Howard’s face, trying to make out any detail in the dark of the room. But then he spoke, his voice low and almost sad. “I missed you.”

 

Vince’s breath caught in his chest. It wasn’t that Howard had never said nice things to him. He knew for sure he had; there was a time when Vince would store all the nice things Howard said and did up and take them out one by one at night, examining them and holding them close. But, most of those were about Vince, about him being funny, or smart, or good at music. He couldn’t really remember a time when Howard had mentioned how he felt about him. He supposed the jokes about being a double act were the closest, or that time in the Arctic before he’d messed it all up by giggling. He held his breath, not sure what else to really say, not wanting to break the moment. “Oh,” he managed, “me too.”

 

There was another long silence. “Night Vince.” Howard said the words softly but firmly.

 

The conversation was over, Howard wasn’t going to be pressed for more details even though Vince had about a million questions. Like why Howard hadn’t just said he’d missed him, he wouldn’t have waited so long to join him at the zoo if he’d just _said_ something. Instead of asking he took a deep breath and lay back down. “Goodnight, Howard.”

**TBC**


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to settle into a routine, but perhaps the boys are starting to get a little too comfortable with the arrangements.

Howard wobbled his way off the carpet and tried to look unaffected by the journey, but suspected he looked as green as he felt. Not to mention that his hair was no doubt in disarray.

Dennis had been his usual insufferable presence throughout the flight, explaining in great detail his importance to every town they flew over. Howard mostly tuned him out while Vince chattered with him.

Vince bounded off the carpet after Howard, his hair slightly windswept, but in a sort of artful way. He beamed at Dennis, apparently genuinely pleased with the situation and previous hour.

“This looks genius,” he said looking around them at the admittedly very beautiful view, “thanks for bringing us!”

Dennis inclined his head. “Enjoy the splendor of our glorious mountains, truly their beauty cannot be matched. I shall see you henceforth.” Then without waiting for a reply he was flying up and away.

Howard let out a long breath as he watched him leave and then they were alone in the foothills of the largest mountain range in Xooberon. He craned his head up to see the snow capped peak of the closest mountain, squinting in the light.

The idea was that they’d hike in the foothills of the mountain before being picked up later that evening at a pre-agreed location. Howard had packed them some food and a map, but was now wondering about the wisdom of wandering in such a foreign land when their usual safety net was languishing in a prison cell hundreds of miles away. Vince, who by and large wasn’t an outdoorsman, didn’t look enthralled with their new surroundings, but at least wasn't complaining. Perhaps, like Howard, he was reluctant to disturb the peace; it was nearly two weeks since they’d had a full argument, and while it was much nicer than actually arguing, the fear that they  _ would  _ was starting to stress Howard out.

When they’d woken the next morning, Howard had felt embarrassed by his confession about bringing Vince to the zoo, but Vince didn’t mentioned it. He’d just rolled over and dropped a kiss on Howard's forehead before climbing out of the bed. Howard had tried not to smile at the ceiling as he listened to the other man go about his morning routine. He’d still felt strange, almost raw and vulnerable, but so far Vince hadn’t used it against him. 

Perhaps Vince hadn’t really cared. Howard still couldn’t quite believe that he hadn’t known why Howard had invited him to the zoo already, but there was hardly any reason for him to lie. It did make Howard wonder what else he might have got wrong, but despite spending the last week thinking about it, he couldn’t think of a way to ask.

“There’s a lake over that hill,” he said in the end to break the silence, when Vince didn’t speak. He supposed that it was often him that came up with their plans - whether just for the day or grander schemes. They’d usually start the day with Howard suggesting various things that sounded vaguely interesting. When they were young the options were limited and Howard knew what they were better than Vince. But the habit had never really broken; it was Vince’s role to filter out what was “boring” or “pointless” until they hit upon something worthwhile. It had used to work well, but lately Howard hadn’t had the energy to work his way through Vince’s apparent distaste for his every suggestion. But now there was no choice - not for either of them - and he didn’t want to stand around in silence for the rest of the day.

“Cool,” Vince said, scuffing a trainer over some loose stones at his feet.

Howard found himself staring at Vince's shoes for a long moment; he hadn’t worn anything approaching that practical in years. It was jarring to see them now; like a memory come to life. The clothes he’d been brought seemed to be a mix of jeans and t-shirts and blouses, but nothing that was nearly as showy as what he’d been wearing lately. He’d expected Vince to complain, but he hadn’t said much of anything as he pulled on clothes that Howard hadn’t seen in years. The t-shirt he was currently wearing he hadn’t seen since the zoo.

He forced his eyes away and reached out to take Vince’s hand in his own as he began to walk, adjusting the backpack straps as he went. He looked around him feeling slightly awed by the sight. It was beautiful, in a sort of brutal way, more like the slopes of a volcano than the British mountains Howard was used to. But they certainly made for an impressive vista. He wondered if Vince thought them boring but didn’t ask.

They walked in silence for a while, Vince trailing a step behind Howard, apparently taking everything in. He didn’t look annoyed but the look of enthusiasm from when he’d exited the carpet was gone. It was strange, but holding Vince’s had made Howard feel more connected to him than before, almost like he could sense his feelings. They had worked hard on feigning casual intimacy over the last few days. It had seemed impossibly strange at first but it was remarkable how quickly that faded. Perhaps because Howard had been thinking about being able to touch Vince for years. He’d never have asked for a hug or leant down to kiss him before, knowing that Vince would have at best laughed and at worst told him he never wanted to see him again. But, now, Vince was reciprocating. It was a heady feeling but Howard was careful not to take advantage. It wasn’t like Vince was able to say no, really, especially when they were out. So he tried to let the other man take the lead, he did have the most experience after all so it made sense. It seemed to be working, no one had questioned their relationship at least. Not yet, anyway, but he was aware they couldn’t afford to let their guard down. 

“Did you really enjoy that?” he asked into the silence, gesturing back towards where they’d been dropped off with their joined hands. It was more for something to say, to break the silence, but there was also something about Vince’s reaction when they’d got off the carpet that didn’t sit right with him.

Vince shrugged. “It was alright,” he replied easily enough. “I’d prefer Gary’s plane, but it was good being able to see all the countryside as we went.”

“But,” Howard started, frowning in confusion, “surely, you can’t have meant… You were so…  _ nice  _ to him. Surely, you don’t really like him?” It was the falseness that was playing on him. Vince had always seemed to like everyone, but even he must have limits to his willingness to make friends.

“I dunno,” he said, looking at Howard for a moment before dropping his eyes back to his feet. “He’s just flown us an hour to see some something nice. It don’t hurt to say thanks.” There was the hint of a rebuke in his voice, like Howard was being unreasonable.

“But he’s a tit!” Howard burst out. “He wants to kill Naboo, us too if he gets the chance.”

“You think you giving him the stink eye with them little peepers is gonna change that?” Vince asked, some of that familiar annoyance starting to creep back in.

Howard frowned at him. Where did Vince, after everything he’d seen, everything that had happened to him when he was younger, get off thinking things were going to work out? Why did everything always have to be sunbeams and roses for him? “No, but there’s no need to go full Vichy France, either, is there?”

“What you on about?” Vince asked.

“I just mean…” He gestured vaguely. “Do you really like everyone and everything all the time? Or are you just so desperate for people to like you that you don’t care who you’re sucking up to?” It came out much harsher than he’d really meant it, but he supposed he  _ did  _ mean the sentiment. It  _ did  _ bother him that Vince loved anyone. It had hurt to realise that what they had together wasn’t so much special as it was… Vince’s natural way with everyone. Just because Howard had never felt like he had before or since with Vince, didn’t mean the other man felt the same. That was proved over and over and over.

Vince’s step faltered for a moment and he dropped Howard's hand. “I dunno,” he answered, his tone harder than before, “you genuinely hate everything or you just trying to look arty and interesting?”

The jibe was probably fair enough, even though it stung. He took a breath and looked back at the foreign landscape. It really was beautiful. “I don’t hate everything,” he said. “I’m just not interested in making friends with people that hate me.”

There was a pause where Vince no doubt considered pointing out that that would rule out Howard ever having any friends. He didn’t say that though, instead he shrugged. “You always want everything to be awful,” he mumbled in the end, kicking at another stone.

“I don’t,” he snapped back, his voice hard, his heart starting to beat harder in his chest. “I really don’t.” He wished he knew how to explain that to Vince; it wasn’t that he  _ enjoyed  _ things going wrong. He hated it. But experience had taught him that they did go wrong. He’d tried to deny it for so long, but apparently it was a rule of the universe: only bad things happened to Howard Moon. He’d tried to be positive for so long that the weight of it was starting to drag him down. He didn’t have the energy to continue to hope for better. He vaguely remembered what it was like to see a good future, but it was no longer in sight. Now he just wanted to limit the damage. To both of them. He didn’t have the words to articulate any of that so instead he looked at his feet and concentrated on getting them to the lake.

Vince looked up at him again as they walked, his eyes narrowed. “Things are better when people like you,” he said slowly, like he was measuring the words out carefully.

Howard bit back a sarcastic retort. They were stuck together for the rest of the day and they couldn’t be fighting when Dennis got back. “Not if you have to pretend to like people.”

“But, people like it when you like them,” Vince pointed out.

“They like it when  _ you  _ like them,” he said. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he felt better when he had. After all, what was the point in lying anymore? It hardly mattered if Vince knew some of how Howard felt, their friendship was already over. It was freeing in a way.

Vince looked at him his eyes narrowed in concentration. “If you’re nice to them and try to get to know them, what they like, then you can usually bring them around. You just gotta get things in common with them.”

“Not that many people like jazz,” he said. “It’s too refined as an art form.”

“That’s because jazz is the music equivalent of herpes,” Vince countered, but without any real heat. It seemed to be more a reflex than anything. “But, you could try liking what they like, you know? Take an interest.”

“You mean change who I am,” Howard said. “I tried that at school and it’s just…” he trailed off and turned to look at Vince.

He’d gone a bit pink but was staring at Howard defiantly. “I like making people happy,” he said. “It’s not a bad thing, Howard.”

“But what about you?” he asked. “What about what makes you happy?”

There was a beat too long of silence before Vince grinned. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I like hearing about other people.”

Howard frowned at him. “But who likes hearing about you?” He hadn’t meant it harshly, it was a genuine question. “It can’t always be about other people.”

Vince looked frozen for a moment, eyes wide and panicked. Then he grinned and gave an easy shrug of his shoulders. “You know me, Howard,” he said, “ain’t much worth sharing going on up here,” he tapped the side of his head. “Just candyfloss and rainbows.”

The smile seemed genuine, enough cheekiness that it could easily be a joke. But now he’d seen it, Howard couldn’t forget the slip in Vince’s mask of apparent easy going, good humour. But he didn’t know what to say, how to ask if Vince wasn’t actually as happy as he always seemed. It probably wasn’t his business. Not anymore. He looked away, back out to the vista in front of them. “People who care about you want to hear it anyway,” he said. He didn’t add the ‘I want to hear about it’ because it was embarrassing, and Vince wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.

Vince didn’t answer and when Howard snuck a look at him, but his jaw was tight. He looked upset, but Howard wasn’t sure why.

“What’s in the bag?” Vince asked after a protracted silence.

Howard let the conversation go. There was nothing left to say. “This, sir, is all the supplies we need for a successful hike.”

“A successful hike?” he asked, voice carefully laced with amused disbelief, “you are you? T J Shackleton?”

Howard’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Just because you’re not an outdoorsman, like me-” he started but Vince jumped in.

“I grew up in a forest,” he pointed out and reached out to take Howard’s hand again and Howard relaxed, “and you once ran away because you thought a bush was looking at you funny.”

“That shrubby was shifty,” he insisted. Then he lifted his chin imperiously and picked up his pace so Vince had to do a little trot to keep up. “Besides, being an outdoorsman isn’t about how much time you spend outside.”

“Ain’t it?” Howard could hear the smile in his voice and it eased the remaining tightness in his chest.

“It’s a mindset,” he confirmed with a nod.

“Is it?” Vince asked slowly.

“It is, sir.”

“Then there’s no way we can already be lost?”

“With my sense of direction?” Howard asked with as much outrage as he could summon. “Impossible.”

“Only I’ve seen that tree twice already.”

They only remained lost for another hour before stumbling to the lake where they’d agreed to meet Dennis. They stopped walking as they came out of the treeline and saw it. It was beautiful. Serene in a way that Howard hadn’t had much chance to savour before. Waves lapped gently at the stone shoreline and trees circled the water, with the mountain sloping up and up in front of them. They stood watching it for a long moment before Howard wrestled off his backpack and started to pull out the food he’d brought.

They ate mostly in silence, pausing to chat about the trial and the walk they’d just done. They didn’t mention London. They hadn’t mentioned it since their last fight, perhaps sensing that it was one of the terms of the ceasefire. By the time Dennis arrived Vince was napping, his head on Howard’s stomach while Howard read one of the books from the flat. It was… nice. Far too nice. Nice enough that he was at risk of forgetting that all they had was a ceasefire. That none of it was real.

****

There was another banquet that evening. Vince was starting to complain that he was going to be too big to fit into any of this clothes. Howard knew what he meant; all they seemed to do was eat and drink. The trial didn’t so far seem so much like an ancient legal process as it did an excuse for a month-long festival. No wonder everyone was so happy about it.

All the events seemed to follow the same pattern: Dennis would make a speech that no one seemed to listen to, they ate and drank until Tony had to be carried out and then everyone was ushered to the doors. They were boring, but not  _ bad.  _ Howard found them almost bearable if he just held Vince’s hand and let himself be pulled around into various groups for inane small talk. Howard was mostly happy to let Vince lead the conversation, it was amazing what he’d be able to bring out of other people. The things that he could learn about the world they were in and the things people seemed happy to share with him. And when Howard was with him, people seemed happy to talk to him too. It was easier to talk to people when he and Vince didn’t need to stop in the middle to trade insults.

Only sometimes Vince had to use the bathroom and that left Howard alone. Or rather, not alone because that would quite pleasant, he was left with a group of people. Usually he’d try not to flounder too obviously, nodding along and keeping quiet until Vince returned. But this time, the group of people included Dennis and his wife. Dennis was talking to a squat woman in yellow robes and so Howard was left to try and think of something to say to his wife. She was as scary looking as Howard remembered; high cheekbones and cold eyes. She looked more like a bird of prey than a woman. All of her features individually were beautiful, but the effect of them all together was more terrifying than appealing. Her mouth was pursed as she turned to him, she looked like at any moment she might peck his eyes out.

“You and Vince have been together for a long time,” she said. Her accent was thick and it took Howard a moment to understand the words.

“Ah,” he said, thankful they’d battled through to agree timeframes, “not that long, really. About a year and a half.”

She nodded. “But you knew him before? Dennis and I met when I was very young; he was over a hundred then.”

Howard’s mouth curled in distaste but decided to sidestep that particular revelation. “Yes, we went to school together,” he answered. He wondered if it was always like this when you were in a couple. Was that the secret to being able to make conversation with strangers? Just have a partner and suddenly you had an endless stream of conversation up for grabs? Or maybe it was just because that was all anyone knew about them and they were the stars of the trial.

Vince arrived at his side again and Howard immediately shifted to allow him room, his arm coming out to wrap around his waist. It was something he’d noticed a lot of men do when they’re partners arrived next to them. He had to admit, it was comforting and he couldn’t help the little thrill he felt when Vince came to him easily, resting his head against Howard for a moment before wrapping his own arm around Howard’s waist.

“We were just talking about your relationship,” Dennis’ wife said to Vince.

“Oh,” the other man replied. “Cool.”

Her eyes flicked over Vince for a moment before returning to Howard. She smiled at him; it was almost as disconcerting as the glare she usually wore. “What was it that drew you to him?”

Howard swallowed. He could feel Vince turn to stare at him, he was grinning but his eyes were sharp and focused. He should have thought to prepare a lie to the question, but it hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would ask. He’d assumed everyone would take one look at them and know Vince was too good for him and that Howard was just thanking his lucky stars that Vince was with him. There was no time for him to think of something fabricated, the truth would have to do. At least it would be easier to remember. “We were friends from the first day at school,” he started, and had to clear his throat. “He looked like he needed a friend, someone to show him the ropes, he was new to the country and in need of a mentor.”

“Hero complex?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Howard shook his head, his hand tightening into a fist, gripping Vince’s blouse tightly. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay. He seemed….” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence and was left to gesture vaguely with his free hand. “I wanted to get to know more about him. He didn’t seem like any of the other children at the school.” He smiled. “He wasn’t, as it turned out. I’ve still never met anyone else like him.”

She smiled, but it was cool, no real affection in her eyes. “But, you did not love him then?”

It was the obvious question, if incredibly invasive. He opened his mouth and closed it again before noticing that everyone in their group was now looking at him. “I don’t…” he started, wondering how on earth he was meant to answer that sort of question. “I’ve always loved him.” He landed on then. “In different ways, perhaps, but I always…”

“Howard’s a bit slow sometimes,” Vince cut in, which was good because Howard had no idea where he was going with that sentence. “He didn’t realise how I felt about him for ages. It was a nightmare.”

Dennis wife turned to look at Vince slowly, her eyes calculating, before turning back to Howard. “But, you knew before he told you of his feelings?”

Howard tried to smile, but his heart was beating in his chest uncomfortably. “Yes,” he admitted. “I wanted… I was always waiting for the moment that I’d be worthy of asking him to be mine.” He forced a little laugh. “I’m still waiting to be honest, but he seemed to get impatient.”

She smiled, this time some warmth reached her eyes.

Vince chirped in at his side. “Howard’s mental,” he said. “He’s always fussing about stuff like that. He always thinks things aren’t good enough, like I ever cared about whether we were famous or not. I just wanted a snog and a feel up.”

Everyone laughed, even as Howard’s cheeks heated.

“You have your hands full with this one,” Dennis said, with something that was disconcertingly close to a leer.

“As often as he’s able, I’m sure,” the woman next to him added.

“Well,” Howard said, feeling flustered, “it’s a privilege that I try to make the most of, at least until he comes to his senses.”

Vince dropped his head onto Howard’s shoulder and giggled. “As if,” he said. “You’re stuck with me now, Howard.”

****

Howard was quiet for the rest of the night and Vince tired not to worry about that too much. It wasn’t like he was particularly talkative at the other dinners so it probably didn’t mean anything. But Vince couldn’t help but wonder if he was brooding about something.

“Sorry Tony’s making us go clubbing,” he said in the end, going for the most obvious potential reason for Howard’s quietness.

The other man turned to him and shrugged. “It was going to happen eventually,” he said.

“I guess,” he said. “Shame they wouldn't let me get more clothes, though.”

They were at the house and Howard had to drop his hand to fiddle with the keys and the door. They’d had a few drinks so it took him slightly longer than usual. Vince watched him closely, the way his long fingers gripped the keys. Howard was always surprisingly gentle. He was so lanky and awkward that everyone seemed to expect him to be clumsy and brutish. But he wasn’t; Vince had loved watching him with the animals at the zoo, all the meticulous care he gave them, nursing them when they were sick. And then later, in the band, watching him play instruments, his movements were always soft and precise.

“You look fine,” Howard said and Vince waited for the follow up, berating him for caring what he looked like. It didn’t come.

“Just fine isn’t good enough,” Vince countered, more for something to say than really expecting Howard to understand.

“For who?” Howard asked, with only the hint of a sneer. He finally managed to turn the key and opened the door. “I don’t think Cheekbone covers Xooberon.”

Vince shrugged as he followed him inside. “Dunno,” he admitted. “There might be an equivalent here.”

“They’ll be looking for turbans and robes, not sparkling popsicle men.”

It was a fair point and Vince couldn’t help but smile at the jibe. “But what if I get named worst dressed or something?”

“Not possible,” Howard said, softly before leaning down and placing a kiss on Vince’s forehead. “No one cares what you’re wearing with hair like that.”

Vince went hot all over and then wanted to giggle madly. Instead he ducked his head hoping to hide the flush he was sure was lighting up his cheeks. “Thanks Howard.”

It was weird. He knew it was still part of the act; part of Howard’s idea to keep up the pretence even when they were alone, just an enactment of what Howard thought boyfriends would say. But that was hard to remember. Because Howard seemed like he meant it. Vince knew Howard was a good actor, he’d seen that for himself, but it was hard to keep that in mind when Howard smiled at him and said something nice. Perhaps because he didn’t want to keep it in mind. He’d been waiting for Howard to be like this with him for so long that he just didn’t want to make it terrible while it was still happening. It might make it worse later but it was worth it. He was sure it would be.

Howard didn’t seem to notice that Vince had stopped moving, stopped hardly breathing, at the contact. The other man was busy fussing about in the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to make them tea. Vince smiled. Howard always used to make them tea after a night out because Vince swore it helped him sleep better. It didn’t, he just liked the excuse to stay up longer with Howard. Those times, when it was late and quiet, seem different to all the others. Howard seemed softer then, like he belonged just to Vince.

“You reckon I could learn to make robes?” he asked, shaking off the memories.

“In two weeks?” Howard replied, looking up from the mugs in his hands. “Probably.”

Vince grinned at him, his chest back to feeling sort of fizzy with pleasure. “I could make us matching outfits. Imagine that.”

Howard’s mouth quirked. “Sadly I am,” he said. “And you’re not dressing me up like some prize pig. I have my dignity, sir.”

“As if,” Vince said. “I’d make you look genius. Better than you do in that old tat.”

Howard look suitably affronted as he looked down at his clothes, but there was still a slight curve upwards of his mouth that gave away that he wasn’t really mad. “These are vintage, I’ll have you know.”

“That shirt’s not vintage,” he said, “it’s so old it’s looped right back around.”

“Enough of that,” he said, placing one of the teas next to Vince’s side of the bed, “or I’ll start to think you don’t want to be seen with me.”

“Nah,” Vince said, “you’re alright. My clothes are nice enough for both of us.”

“You mean you don’t want anyone pulling focus from you,” Howard said.

Vince laughed and Howard grinned, ducking his head before heading into the bathroom.

Vince drank his tea while he was waiting for his turn and by the time he was finished, Howard was in bed and the lights were were off. He carefully climbed into his side.

“Did you want to see if there’s somewhere to buy fabric in Fake Camden tomorrow?” Howard asked once Vince was settled. “We could go if you want. There’s a library too - perhaps I could head there afterwards.”

The idea of a library made him want to roll his eyes, but Howard offering to come fabric shopping made up for it. “But we don’t have any money; I don’t think they’ll take euros,” he pointed out.

“Dennis said as his guests we could ‘indulge in anything legal’ we wanted while we’re here and he was pick up the tab.”

This was news to Vince but it sounded like something he might say. “Oh, okay then. Yeah,” he said.

“Alright,” Howard said, “I’ll ask Gethin where’s best to go.”

“Thanks, Howard,” he said softly, feeling that sort of warm glow from earlier. The words still felt strange on his tongue, but it was getting easier for him to say them.

“You’re welcome, little man.”

Vince’s heart leapt at the nickname, he couldn’t remember the last time Howard had used it. He grinned into his pillow.

They were quiet for a moment. “You reckon we’re pulling it off?”

There was shifting on the other side of the bed where it seemed like Howard was turning to look at him. Vince couldn’t see anything in the dark of the room but he imagined his expression, all pinched and serious. It made him smile harder.

“Yes,” Howard said, his voice measured and careful. “I mean, we’ve got to be careful, keep our guard up, but I think we’ve done a good job so far.”

“It helps,” Vince said slowly, “the keeping pretending when we’re here.”  

“Yes,” Howard said slowly. “It does.”

Vince paused for a moment, considering. Then he scooted over and, like he had earlier, lay his head on Howard. Only this time it was on his chest. The other man didn’t even flinch, his arm moving to let him in. Vince’s heart felt like it might beat right out of his chest. It was selfish and unfair. He was sure it was. But if Howard was going to let him hug him, Vince was making the most of it. 

 

It was strange. He remembered the anger of only a couple of weeks ago. He remembered how awful he’d felt when Howard told him he was leaving, but it was hard to keep that in his head when things were good. It had always been like that. Howard could make him cry one moment and the next say something lovely and Vince was back to being content and happy. He didn’t want to think about it. It made him anxious. Instead he snuggled in further, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of Howard’s pajamas.

“You reckon this is how couples sleep all the time?” he asked softly, ready to drift off.

Howard’s hand came to rest of the top of his head, stoking over Vince’s hair. He had to work hard not to arch up into the touch. “I don’t know,” he said, and Vince could feel the words rumble out of his chest. “Maybe.”

“I’d always sleep like this,” Vince mumbled. “It’s comfy.”

“Yeah,” Howard said, his voice quiet. “Night Vince.”

“Night Howard.”

*****

They weren’t hugging when Vince woke up the next morning, but Howard smiled at him when he rolled over to look at him. One big hand came out to touch the top of Vince’s head, petting him like he was some sort of exotic animal. It was nice. Vince smiled at him and Howard’s mouth turned up, his eyes warming.

“Morning Howard,” he said, pulling himself away and out of the bed.

“You’re chipper this morning,” Howard noted.

“Well, we’re going fabric shopping today,” Vince pointed out, hoping that Howard wasn’t about to take the offer back. He hurried into the bathroom just in case.

Howard didn’t take it back. They ate breakfast and then headed into town. The layout wasn’t entirely the same as real Camden and Vince kept getting lost, but they managed to find a market after only some light bickering. Howard didn’t moan about following Vince into four different shops, or complain when Vince draped fabrics over him to test the colours (even though he already knew exactly how they’d look on him) he didn’t even bitch about carrying the bags.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen tweed robes before,” Howard said as they made their way into a cafe for lunch.

“Well,” Vince said, “I don’t know how they’ll work at the moment, it might be too heavy. But if not you liked that angry beige and sultry brown, right?” He wasn’t sure why it mattered to him suddenly that Howard liked what he made, but it did. The colours were a bit boring, but he’d got some nice accent colours in mustard and green that would bring out the colour of Howard’s eyes, even if he had to use the less exciting fabric.

Howard pretended to huff, but Vince knew he didn’t mean it; there was a subtle difference but he’d come to know the genuine annoyance better over the last few months. He’d started to feel a little thrill of victory when he was able to elicit it, like he’d won some prize for breaking through Howard’s otherwise cool indifference to everything he did. He didn’t like thinking about that, about how his desire for Howard’s approval and morphed into wanting his attention and then into it not mattering what _ sort _ of attention, as long as he had it (and no one else did).

“Would it matter if I didn’t?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Vince said, unexpectedly and truthfully. He blinked at himself and quickly tugged his face into something more cheeky and playful. “Can’t have my boyfriend not feeling his best if we’re going to the best club on the planet.”

Howard gave him a long look, the sort he’d been giving him a lot over the last couple of weeks. Vince wished he knew what they meant. “Well, in that case, yes,” Howard said, his face softening. “I have no doubt you’ll create something beautiful.”

Vince ducked his head. “Don’t try and butter me up just so I don’t complain that we’re about to spend a million hours in a library.”

Howard chuckled. “You don’t have to come,” he said. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

Vince didn’t. Not just because he was on an alien planet where he didn’t know anyone and was scared to make friends in case he accidentally gave something away. But, also because he wanted to be around Howard. The fact they weren’t arguing was too good to give up on. “Nah,” he said, “I need to see if they have something on how to sew robes.”

“Ah,” Howard said, tapping the side of his nose, “reconnaissance.”

“Huh?” he asked, just because he knew Howard would enjoy telling him.

But they were interrupted by a waiter before Howard even had the chance to puff his chest out and draw a breath. They hadn’t looked at the menu, but then there was no point because they wouldn’t understand it anyway. Thankfully Howard did the talking, sorting them out something that they’d actually be able to eat. He’d taken care of food when they were together since they were little.

The first time Vince had gone over to Howard's house for tea it had been so confusing. There seemed to be all these strange rules and expectations. Things he was meant to say at certain times and ways he was meant to sit. Then there was the food itself. Vince didn’t remember eating a lot of full meals before that. He supposed he must have, with him mum and dad before he was sent away, but he didn’t remember them. There just seemed to be  _ so much  _ food and all the textures were strange. He’d felt overwhelmed, silly and small, sitting at Moons’ giant dining table. But Howard seemed to understand. He’d always seemed to understand back then. He’d whispered explanations to Vince, guiding him through things and eating things off his plate when his parents weren’t looking.

Afterwards Howard had sat him down and tried to explain some of the incomprehensible rules. Vince had assumed he was joking at first, it all seemed totally crazy. But, something about the earnest look on Howard’s face made him think there might be something in it.

 

He’d never really liked meal times, but he learnt that Howard did. It seemed important to Howard that he and Vince ate at regular times and that it was a meal that included some vegetables. He complied at the start just to see Howard beam at him across the table and then, later, because it was one of the only times Howard’s full attention could be guaranteed. But, he’d never learned to take much of an interest in food. What was the point when he could have sweets? They were portable and tasted so much better. So, when it wasn’t about sweets, he tended to leave the decisions to Howard. It was easier that way.

Lately, they hadn’t been spending time together really at all and that meant Vince hadn’t been eating meals. He’d have the leftovers when he got back sometimes, but never really seemed to have much of an appetite. Howard told him once that didn’t help with his episodes, but he couldn’t see how they were connected. But, now he thought about it, he had been starting to feel worried again, his chest tight and stomach fluttering with nerves over nothing. It had been better since he came here, when he’d started eating properly again.

Although it might also be because he and Howard hadn’t argued since that first night. Nearly two weeks ago. His stomach fluttered again. He knew it was only a matter of time before it went back to how it had been in London.

 

He sighed and pushed the thoughts away as Howard turned back to him, apparently having finished ordering something. There was no point in thinking about how awful his life would be again soon. It wouldn’t help.

Howard grinned at him. He looked pleased, with himself probably, but it still made Vince smile.

***

The rest of the day was peaceful. Vince was bored at the library after only an hour, but Howard was in the middle of a tour from Gethin and so Vince forced himself to mostly sit still and work on some designs for their outfits. Howard was smiling and flushed with something that looked suspiciously like pleasure when he came back. Gethin grinned at him before bustling off to find Vince a sewing machine. Vince wanted to ask what Howard was so pleased about but was distracted by the most amazing sewing machine he’d ever seen moments later.

Howard carried it back to their flat and Vince got to work while Howard pulled out one of the million books he seemed to have taken out. They hardly spoke until they needed to leave for the dinner, but the silence wasn’t heavy and oppressive like it had been at the shop lately. It was nice, even. Vince looked up every so often to see Howard lay out on the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a little frown on his face. It made him smile. But not as much as Howard making them both cups of tea and placing Vince’s down next to him with a little kiss on the top of his head. It made his toes curl and cheeks heat. It wasn’t sexy. But there was something intimate about it, like Howard hadn’t even really thought about it, like he’d just wanted to kiss Vince on the spur of the moment. If only he could tell his sixteen-year-old self. He’d never believe him.

The dinner was as boring as all the others. Vince didn’t really mind, though. It was nice to be able to test out new ways of being a couple with Howard. Holding hands and kissing was brilliant enough, but being able to say nice things to each other and not having to make a joke about them was even better. It made Vince smile so widely his face was starting to hurt. 

He still felt full of warm happiness as they got into bed that night. He wasn’t ready for the day to be over. So he rolled over to face Howard.  “They were asking about when we first realised we liked each other again.” It wasn’t really true, but the night before was still fresh in his mind and he wanted to recapture it.

Howard tilted his head to look at Vince. “Really? What did you say?”

“I said it were your dance moves,” he said with a little grin.

“Ah yes,” Howard said, “the Moon moves are world famous.”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed, “you knocked three people out the first time I saw you dance.”

The very edges of Howard’s mouth turned up, Vince watched them in the dim light, warmth filling his stomach at the sight. He shifted over so he could rest his head on Howard again, his arm slung over his chest. Howard’s hand came up to play with Vince’s hair. It was perfect. The best moment of Vince’s life probably. 

 

“That’s an important part of the routine; dance without casualties is not a dance worth doing.” Howard said softly, his voice tinged with laughter. 

Vince laughed, turning his face into Howard’s chest to stifle them. “You ain’t pulling that out in the club,” he said when he’d got his breath back.

He felt Howard shift so he could look down at him. “Oh, is that right?” he asked. “That sounds like a challenge, sir.”

“Leave off,” Vince said, “I could out dance you any day. I got the moves.”

“What? All of them?”

“Yeah,” Vince said, his hand coming up to rest on Howard’s chest, over his heart. “I found them in a skip out the back of a club in Peckham.”

He felt Howard’s laugh before he heard it and grinned to himself.

***

The next couple of days followed the same pattern; they got up and had breakfast before exploring Fake Camden and having lunch. Then either went to the library or straight home so Howard could read and Vince could continue to work on their outfits for the club.

He still couldn’t quite believe they were going to a club. Together. He didn’t think that had ever happened. Pubs. Yes. Even some more trendy wine bars. But never a real club. He’d expected Howard to refuse when Tony pointed out that they had taken other people’s advice but not his yet on how they ought to spend the time on Xooberon. But he hadn’t, he’d looked at Vince and shrugged.

 

“Vince loves clubs,” he’d said instead. “I must admit, they aren’t really my scene. I’m of more refined tastes-”

“You’re a boring old nutsack you mean,” Tony had interrupted.

“Oi!” Vince had snapped. “Watch your mouth or I’ll have you.”

Howard had ducked his head and squeezed Vince’s hand. Vince had forgotten how good to felt to be the one that looked out for Howard, rather than the one taking the piss. It made him feel pleased and guilty all at once. The resulting argument with Tony had only been resolved by them agreeing to accompany the Shaman to a club after the final feast before the trial began. 

 

Vince was excited, but he was a bit worried about Howard. He didn’t want him to hate it and end up in a sulk all night. Perhaps that’s why he was going a bit overboard on the outfits, but it was important they fit in. Maybe if they both  _ looked  _ the part, they’d feel more comfortable. It had worked for Vince well enough until now.

It wasn’t like Howard was acting outwardly bothered about the upcoming night out, perhaps resigned to their fate. But whenever it was brought up, he was starting to get a pinched look on his face. That was stage one of Howard not wanting to do something and if Vince didn’t act soon they’d end up in full stropsville. 

 

He thought about it as the day wore on and they got ready to go out to the dinner. There had to be a way to take Howard’s mind off how much he hated clubs and focus him on something else instead. Then, as he gazed across the dining hall at Dennis and his wife a thought occurred to him. He tried not to focus on it too intently because that meant he’d lose his train of thought. Instead he turned away and joined in the conversation happening next to him with a used carpet salesman.

It wasn’t until Howard and he were home that night, drinking their tea that the idea came to him, fully formed.

“I think we should try another kiss,” Vince found himself saying. He blinked in surprise. Not because it was a bad idea; he just hadn’t expected the words to actually come out of his mouth. It was probably only the three fruity cocktails that Howard had got for him that made him able to say them at all.

“What do you mean?” Howard said. “I thought we were doing well, it felt… I mean, it was fairly natural seeming.”

“Yeah,” Vince said, scuffing his boot over the carpet. “But, like, them kisses are basically kisses your nan might give you.”

Howard looked confused which was fair enough, Vince didn’t know that many nans that gave lingering kisses on the lips as thanks for a drink, but he’d started now and wasn’t about to back down.

“Like, couples don’t really just kiss like that do they?” He looked at Howard, trying to gauge if he was going to freak out. He didn’t seem about to turn around to flee, but it was hard to tell sometimes. “I know people don’t always do that in front of people, but like, maybe we could stage Dennis walking in on us or something. I reckon that would really seal the deal. No way he’d think we were faking after that. We could do it at the club, like loads of couples get a bit carried away on a night out, right?”

A look of understanding was slowly settling over Howard’s face. “You want to deepen the ruse?” he asked, but he looked approving so Vince thought he was probably safe.

“Yeah,” he said. “It can’t hurt, can it? Like, the handholding and that is a good start, but what if he starts to wonder?”

Howard nodded again. “Okay,” he said. “But how would we make sure he walks in at the right moment?”

“I dunno,” Vince shrugged. “Maybe we just wait until he talks about needing to leave and then sneak out so he bumps into us or something.”

“I suppose that might work,” he conceded.

“Okay, good.” Vince grinned, pleased that Howard had listened to one of his plans for once. He could count the number of times that had happened without a fight on one hand.

“Did you want,” Howard started, his cheeks colouring before he had to stop and clear his throat. “Did you want to practice?”

It was Vince’s turn to be startled. He’d expected a lot more coercing before Howard warmed to the idea; he must still be really worried for their lives. “Yeah,” he said, hoping he sounded casual. “If you want to.”

“It’s probably sensible,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his shirt. 

 

Vince leapt to his feet, hoping he didn’t look too eager. He’d been thinking about snogging Howard for years, but never seriously expected it to happen. 

Howard had slipped him a little tongue up on the roof, that first time, but Vince had been so overwhelmed that he hadn’t been able to really concentrate on anything at all. He wanted it to be different now. He wanted to make up for what was probably a really crap snog and show Howard that he could be good at it. He was a good kisser, he was sure he was. He’d spent enough time practicing, making sure he got all the moves right. It was hard to perfect and sometimes meant that he forgot to really enjoy it himself, but it was worth it.

Vince stepped forward into Howard’s personal space.  He was braced for Howard to retreat, but he didn’t. He remained perfectly still, looking down at Vince, his expression carefully neural. 

 

He’d grown used to Howard wearing hats over the last few months, which made it harder than ever to see what he was thinking. But that was another thing Tony and Saboo had neglected to bring. He liked being able to see Howard’s eyes. He smiled up at him, hoping he seemed cheeky.

“Ready?” he asked, which wasn’t exactly sexy, but then he wasn’t trying to be. This was strictly professional. Just friends helping each other, and their landlord slash other friend, not to be murdered horribly. He wasn’t trying to seduce Howard. As if such a thing were possible, which he was increasingly inclined to think it wasn’t.

“Yes, sir,” Howard nodded, pulling down his shirt again.

Vince reached out and took his hands on instinct, lacing their fingers together, before craning up and kissing Howard. It was soft, starting simply enough with a series of little pecks. Howard seemed to be following his lead which made Vince want to smile. Then he opened his mouth, feeling Howard do the same. He couldn’t help but peak one eye open, wanting to know what Howard’s expression might be. He was too close to make out much, but Howard’s eyes were at least closed and not screwed shut like he hated it. Their tongues met in gentle exploration and Vince had to fight not to let out a little sigh, especially when Howard dropped his hand so he could reach around Vince’s shoulders and pull him closer.

It was almost exactly like he’d always hoped it would feel to kiss Howard. He was a bit stiff, but gentle and responsive. Vince could feel himself melting into the kiss, his own hands coming up the tangle in Howard’s hair. It was too long, Vince hadn’t cut it in months. But it was still soft, just like he remembered it. He was so caught up in the feeling that he forgot that he was meant to be showing Howard how it went and then Howard was pulling back. He let him and dropped his hands, hoping he didn’t look too flushed.

There was a long pause before Howard coughed awkwardly. “Should we, ah, try again?”

Vince wasn’t sure if it was possible for someone to nod quicker than he did in response, but it didn’t matter because Howard was kissing him again and he didn’t think about much else for the next couple of hours.

 

TBC


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up as the trial fast approaches.

Howard woke the next morning feeling a mixture of delighted and terrified. The feeling of existential dread was pretty much a normal Thursday in many ways. The delighted part was new, however. He and Vince had kissed. Not just gentle little pecks. Proper kisses. Snogging. There was no other way to describe what they’d done the night before. They’d snogged. Howard had snogged someone. It made him want to smile even as the thought that it didn’t _mean_ anything weighed him down. Although, surely even if it didn’t mean anything to Vince it was still a good thing. He knew what he was doing now. That was a positive. Maybe he could one day apply that knowledge to someone that cared for him in return.

It wasn’t really a comforting thought and not just because he couldn’t really imagine someone else wanting to kiss him. It wouldn’t be the same with anyone else. He just wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that with someone else. It was just so... _intimate._

He rolled his head to the side to find Vince still sleeping soundly next to him. He looked younger when he was still; his face relaxed and just the hint of a smile on his lips. Howard couldn’t help but smile for a moment before forcing himself out of the bed. There was no point in indulging in those sorts of thoughts. It would only make what came after they left worse.

He continued the internal battle with himself as he got ready. Part of him wanted to just give in, just let himself really enjoy this time with Vince. Perhaps if he soaked enough of it in he could store it up for afterwards, stoke the memories like the embers of a fire. Or perhaps it was just better not to let himself feel anything at all. The idea of being happy for such a short amount of time only to have it all snatched away was terrifying. His heart would never recover. He’d have none of it left to give to anyone else even if he could find someone that might want it.

The thoughts chased themselves around and around his head until he opened the door to the bathroom to find Vince on the other side. He was blinking sleepily, rubbing at his eyes, but when the door opened he grinned up him.

“Alright, Howard?” he asked.

With a swooping feeling in his stomach, Howard surged forward and swept Vince into his arms and kissed him. Who needed a heart anyway? He’d learn to do without it.

***

 

Vince seemed content. It was strange, Howard couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the other man so still and absorbed in something. Certainly lately he’d always seemed to be in a rush to be somewhere, see someone, be at the latest cool place. But, even before that, he’d always seemed full of nervous energy, always ready to leap onto the next thing. He wasn’t sure what was different, perhaps it was just being somewhere new, but he seemed perfectly happy with their new routine. He worked on their outfits for the club and laughed at Howard’s jokes and talked to the various people at the dinners that came over to see the couple that were Naboo’s only real chance for survival. He always seemed happy to answer the incredibly invasive questions they asked of their supposed relationship. He supposed it was a good opportunity for Vince to practice his storytelling abilities. He hadn’t had much occasion of late, it didn’t seem likely his new friends would be interested in his flights of fancy. Howard wondered how long it had been since Vince had written a Charlie book. He made a note to ask him about it.

Only he never seemed to get the chance, because it seemed every moment they were alone and not otherwise engaged, they were preparing for the club. That meant either planning the best way to stage an interruption, or practicing for when they were.

He realised towards the end of the week that the practising might be getting out of hand. He’d suspected he was adequate enough after the first couple of tries, certainly good enough to convince a drunk shaman that he’d caught them having a quick snog on the way home from a club. But every time Vince asked if he wanted to practice ‘just in case’, he found himself agreeing without really meaning to. It was almost certainly morally reprehensible. There was no excuse for pretending he needed the practice when in reality it just felt too good to say no to. It would certainly make the end of this trip much harder, giving up Vince was always going to hurt, but giving up _this_ as well would be excruciating. That’s what he told himself over and over when they were out, trying to build up some walls so he could resist the urge when they were alone. It never worked. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse.

It was him that suggested they sit on the bed because it felt strange to be standing in the middle of their bedroom, but he wasn’t sure how they’d ended up _lying down_. It didn’t seem like either of them had moved, but suddenly they were horizontal on their sides and yet somehow still kissing. Howard was having a hard time keeping his hands on Vince’s shoulders in a respectful manner.

As though he could hear Howard’s thoughts, Vince pulled back to whisper, “You can touch me. It’s gonna look weird if you keep your hands all in one place the whole time.”

He knew it was a mistake to take Vince at his word, but his body didn’t seem to be listening to reason. The hand which wasn’t trapped beneath him was moving first to Vince’s hair, cupping the back of his head and tugging at the long strands, and then running down his back before he even had time to think about it. Vince was grabbing at Howard’s shirt, as though trying to hold on. They were pressed together, but thankfully there was just enough room between them for it not to be too obvious the effect the kissing was having on him.

He felt overwhelmed. It was like nothing he’d experienced before; every sense was heightened, every touch made goosebumps erupt across his skin, making him want to shiver. He was almost too nice, a sort of exquisite torture. Then Vince leant into him heavily making Howard roll onto his back. He expected Vince to stop kissing him and sit up but instead he drapped himself half-over him and went right back to snogging him like it was the most normal thing in the world. Perhaps to Vince it was; he’d certainly done a lot more of this sort of thing than Howard. Perhaps Vince had spent hundreds of afternoons kissing someone he didn’t really care for, just for the fun of it, just because it felt nice. Which it certainly did. It felt more than nice. It was _incredible._ He felt almost feverish with excitement and something like anticipation, even though he knew nothing was actually going to happen.

Well, his _brain_ knew that, but that was currently being starved of blood so probably wasn’t functioning well enough to override other parts of his body that were _very_ interested in moving things on. Vince’s tongue in his mouth had been strange at first and he hadn’t known what to do with any of his limbs but it had soon felt natural. It felt right in a way that most physical things never had to Howard. But as soon as he was used to that, he wanted _more_. What that might _be_ he wasn’t sure. But the temptation to arch _up_ into where Vince was lying on him was unbearable.

He suspected that Vince realised he was hard, straining against his cords, but the thought was dim and became more so and he felt Vince’s answering hardness against his hip. A jolt of lust shot through him, making him choke off a moan. The idea that Vince was turned on by what they were doing was probably the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him. Vince’s hands on his arms tightened at his inadvertent moan and then he _pressed down_ into Howard’s hip.

It was too much. Howard pulled back, sucking in great lungfuls of air. “We should,” he panted and had to stop because he wasn’t able to resist peppering kisses along Vince’s jaw. “We’ll be late to the dinner.”

It was a flimsy excuse, but he needed to take a break. Things were getting too intense. He wasn’t willing to embarrass himself by trying to push their session beyond what it was meant to be. Vince couldn’t very well help his body’s reaction to stimuli, but it couldn’t go any further or Howard would do something that might make him uncomfortable. Howard knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t take that rejection well. He needed to protect them both from that. The last thing this trip needed was an ill-advised confession of deeper feelings.

Vince pulled back to look at Howard. His cheeks were rosy, and his lips were swollen from the kissing. He’d never looked more beautiful and Howard’s hands twitched where they rested on his back, wanting to pull him close. He balled them into fists to stop himself even as his chest filled again with excitement at the thought that _he’d_ made Vince look like that. Vince swallowed but then nodded and pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Yeah,” he muttered, fluffing his hair and getting up off the bed. “I better start getting ready. You mind if I use the bathroom first?”

Howard swallowed, still trying to catch his breath and shook his head. “No, go ahead.”

Vince disappeared into the bathroom without another word and Howard lay back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He needed to get a grip on himself.

***

The days continued to flow fairly uneventfully into each other. Howard put a break on the practicing. It was getting so hard to stop that it was better not to start at all. Vince didn’t suggest another one after Howard suggested that they were probably fine on that front. So, instead he read his book. Most days he found it impossible to concentrate and didn’t take in a single word. It was like the could _feel_ Vince on the other side of the room. He’d always been aware of the other man, but now he was impossible to ignore. He itched to reach out, to suggest another practice session, but the words wouldn’t come. He thought the words over and over but they all sounded painfully obvious and silly. Vince would know immediately that it was all just an excuse.

The only reprieve was a brief trip to the desert at the insistence of Saboo. Once they were there they both agreed quickly that they didn’t much like the reminder of their last trip and stayed in the little oasis that they’d been dropped off in. It turned out to be a nice day. They swam and ate the food they’d brought with them, talking about the other places on the planet they’d visit if they had the chance. It really felt like a holiday.

Howard realised that they hadn’t been away together for years. Black Lake was the last trip they’d taken for leisure and that was only through necessity. He wondered why they’d stopped and couldn’t recall a specific reason. Vince had certainly seemed to always be off with other people and never much interested in the things Howard wanted to do. Perhaps their trip to the forest had put him off, and Howard couldn’t really blame him for that. Maybe he should have thought to suggest something more to Vince’s liking, but there had never seemed like a good time. Then things had been so bad between them that neither of them seemed inclined to spend more time together than they had to. The thought was sad, like so many things about their relationship now.

It was like Howard was gaining a level of clarity about what had gone wrong, but much too late to do anything about it. If only he’d seen that while it was still happening, while Vince still cared about him and Howard had the energy to fix it. He tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, but it was hard with the end of their stay coming closer and closer. The reminder that this was all a temporary break before the end of their friendship was unwelcome but harder and harder to ignore.

The end loomed up at him, bound together with the outing to the club. He hadn’t much been looking forward to it before, but knowing that it would be the end of their stay made it so much worse. Then he felt guilty, because they were meant to be there for Naboo, and it was incredibly selfish of him to wish for longer when his friend was languishing in a prison somewhere. The thoughts chased themselves around and around his head.

He didn’t want to start a downward circle, but he could feel his mood continuing to dip. Vince didn’t say anything about Howard’s prolonged silences where he argued internally with himself about not being such a misery, but it was surely only a matter of time. They needed to keep their cease fire going for another few days and he knew that it wouldn’t be possible if he didn’t do something about his mood.

Then, an idea came to him suddenly as they were at _another_ dinner. If he just had something to look forward to after they went to the club, perhaps he wouldn’t dread it so much. He made his way over to Dennis, steeling himself to ask him for a favour.

Dennis turned to look at him, his eyes calculating and hard. Apparently their time together hadn’t warmed him towards Howard at all. He hadn’t expected it to, really. But he had hoped, for all their sakes, that he might thaw at least a little.

“I was wondering,” Howard said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. “Might it be possible for us to take one final trip on Saturday? I know the trial starts the day after, but I thought it might be nice to fit in one last thing. There’s still so much I would like to see.”

Dennis looked approvingly at him and Howard relaxed. “Yes,” he said, “I have business; my wife is going a shoot for an extreme sports calendar. I would take you to our beaches.”

Howard faltered; he hadn’t expected that. But he supposed it was one of the few places left that had been suggested to them. Vince might like it, even though the last time they’d been at the seaside it had ended badly. He’d enjoyed himself far more than Howard had, before he’d ruined it for them both. He forced himself to nod. Any time spent with Vince was better than nothing. “That sounds great,” he said. “I’m sure the seaside will help soothe our heads after the final banquet and the club Tony’s insisting we go to.”

Dennis smiled thinly at him. “Yes,” he said. “You should be careful of taking too much advantage of our drinking establishments. You have a sacred role to perform here.”

He wanted to roll his eyes but instead Howard nodded seriously. “Of course,” he said. “We will be careful. We take our responsibilities very seriously.”

“Very well,” he said, after a pause where he levelled Howard with a stare that was meant to be intimidating and was mostly successful. “I shall pick you up on Saturday morning at 9.”

Howard relaxed a little after that. It helped having something to focus on other than the night out. He’d never been much good at going out. He didn’t like the crowds or the dancing. Didn’t much like interacting with drunk people who seemed even more difficult to understand than sober ones. He didn’t often feel like he fitted in wherever he went but he rarely felt as _out_ of place as he did at trendy clubs and he supposed that would go doubly for an alien one.

He tried not to think about it. Instead he tried to concentrate on Vince and his obvious pleasure at making clothes for them both. It was a nice gesture, even if he suspected Vince viewed him more as an accessory than a partner. He tried not to be offended by that; Vince cared greatly for his accessories. It was better than nothing. He felt bad, watching him at the sewing machine that his own dissatisfaction in his own life, in their relationship, had made them fall apart. If only he could have learnt to accept that Vince would never be more than a friend maybe things would have been better. He’d never been much good at accepting his own shortcomings, perhaps that was something to work on after he was alone.

***

The morning of the final feast and their trip to the club Vince bounded out of bed with a grin. He looked over his shoulder to find Howard blinking sleepily but still smiling at him. He’d been in a better mood for the last week, even organising one last trip for them the next day. It was nice and Vince had started to relax about taking him to the club.

“What are you hurrying for?” Howard asked, through a stretch.

“Got to finish our outfits and then I want to go and see if there are an potions I can try for my hair,” Vince said, picking up the fabric draped over their dining room table.

“You’ve been working on them for two weeks,” he said. “Surely they’re done by now.”

Vince shrugged. “I just keep seeing things I want to play with.” He just wanted them to be really good. It wasn’t like he thought seeing how good they look, how like one of them they looked, would make the shaman any less likely to murder them. But it couldn’t hurt.

“You love making clothes,” Howard said. His voice had a focused quality to it that made Vince pause, it sounded like he was leading up to something.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “you know me. Never happier than when I’m messing around with pretty colours.”

“Have you ever thought about making them to sell?” Howard sounded like he was phrasing his words carefully.

“What you mean?” he asked, starting to feel anxious, although he didn’t know why.

“I just mean, you can’t be a shopkeeper for the rest of your life,” Howard said softly, like it was obvious. Only it wasn’t not to Vince. It had never occurred to him that anything needed to chance. “It seems like you have talent - you know, for making clothes for slutty clowns, but I’m sure there’s a market for it.”

Vince’s mouth twitched. “That’s actually tipped to be the next big look in London.” He didn’t look at Howard, hoping he’d let the topic drop.

He didn't want to think about it. He’d never much liked the idea of change, he’d had more than enough of that when he was little. One of the things he’d loved best about Howard was the sense that he was always just _Howard_. He never seemed to need to change who he was. He was like a big rock in the middle of the sea. The waters might be huge and terrifying all around it, choppy and never the same from one second to the next, but the rock didn’t change. It was just a rock. He loved having adventures and changing his look. But at the end of the day, he loved coming back to their keepers’ hut or the flat to find it all the same. Perhaps that’s why he’d started to feel so anxious lately. Without Howard there to tether him to the ground he was starting to float away, starting to not really know who or what he was. His stomach was churning and he gripped the fabric tightly.

“Maybe you should think about it,” Howard persisted.

He felt a stab of annoyance. Howard had always wanted to leave the life they’d created for something better, he’d made that very clear over the years. But, why couldn’t he accept that Vince was happy with what he had? He acted like he thought Vince was stupid for being happy with it and sometimes it made Vince want to throttle him. But he didn’t want to fight with him. Not when they’d have to leave so soon. So he swallowed his annoyance down and took a deep breath. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Howard looked for a moment like he might try to continue the conversation but instead he sat up. He looked rumpled in his pyjamas and sleep-worn. Vince watched him for a moment feeling anxious, confused by the sudden onslaught of emotions swirling in his chest. He looked away and forced himself into the bathroom.

He felt better after a shower; Howard was up and making breakfast when he came out. He smiled and stopped to drop a kiss on Howard’s cheek, wanting to erase the previous conversation. He’d found lately that if he could touch Howard, drop a kiss on him, that he always felt calmer. Vince relaxed completely when the other man smiled at the contact, pausing from where he was whisking eggs to pull Vince into a one armed hug and drop a return kiss on the top of his head. Vince grinned and went to clear away the stray bits of material from the table.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Vince was so wrapped up in getting ready that he didn’t have time for much else. Howard was quiet, but not moody exactly and so he left him to it. He tried not to think about what was going to happen once the day was over. Although he was looking forward to a final trip with Howard, it also meant their time in Fake Camden was nearly over. And before that, there was the small matter of the trial to get through. There was no point in brooding, though. There was nothing he could do to change it.

Howard hovered near Vince while he made the final changes to their outfits. He bit down on a smile as Howard tried to ask casual questions about when he might be able to try on his. He knew Howard was worried that Vince might make him look silly, even if he’d never come right out and said it. As if Vince would ever make bad clothes on purpose, even for a joke. It was sacrilege. Perhaps he was just concerned because Vince hadn’t asked him to try them on yet. He hadn’t partly because he didn’t need to and partly just because he enjoyed the way Howard tried to pretend he didn’t mind. He knew Howard’s measurements, even though the other man had changed a lot since he’d last allowed Vince to properly measure him. Vince had an excellent eye combined with being drawn to staring at Howard when he wasn’t looking, so he was confident that he’d sized it right.

Eventually he ran out of things to even pretend to tinker with and stood up. “Right,” he said, “you ready to try this on?”

Howard leapt to his feet, dropping the book he was reading onto the bed. “Now?” he asked, looking only vaguely apprehensive.

“Yeah,” Vince nodded, “come on.” He held out the robes with a grin.

Howard came over and took them quickly before managing a half smile at Vince and heading into the bathroom to change. He tried not to pace while he waited for him to return but it seemed to take ages. When the door opened he was already holding his breath but quickly realised that he wouldn’t have been able to breath anyway. Howard looked… good. He robes made him look even taller than normal and made him seem almost imposing, regal even. He’d decided that for Howard he’d be best to create some layers. The tunic was simple enough and made in mustard with a green belt and collar that opened slightly at the throat. Over that he’d found a way to make the tweed work in an overcoat that just brushed the floor. It too had mustard details, in the lining and some pipping. He’d then used dark leather for the fastenings at the front. Howard had at least showered, and his was currently wet and a bit wild. He looked like a cross between Heathcliff just back from the moors and Gandalf’s alarmingly sexy, younger cousin.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Well?” they both asked at the same time. Then laughed. “Well?” they repeated.

Howard let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “I like them,” he said. His voice was gentle. “Thank you.”

Vince felt suddenly almost teary which was ridiculous. “If I’d have had more time,” he said, fussing with the hem of his t-shirt, “I could have made you some accessories, or maybe done a few pockets.”

“They’re perfect, Vince,” Howard said. “The finest robes in the world.”

He could feel his cheeks starting to heat, so he ducked his head and shrugged. “I mean, _mine_ are the finest,” he said. “But yours are okay. You look good in them. You look all manly and imposing.”

He watched with surprised amusement as Howard drew himself up at Vince’s words. “Well,” he said with a little nod of his head. “I shall try to live up them. Now, how about yours? When do I get to see how my boyfriend looks in the _finest_ robes to have ever been made?”

Vince pursed his lips so he didn’t smile too obviously and to hide the little flip his stomach did at being called Howard’s boyfriend. “Later,” he said. “I need to do my hair first. Now, take those off before you ruin them.”

Howard did a ridiculous little bow and went to change. Vince sat back down at the table to finish his own outfit, but he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Every time he managed wrestle his face into a normal expression, he realised a few moments later he was back to grinning dopily again. In the end he gave up. It didn’t seem worth fighting.

***

Vince was fussing with his hair. He couldn’t seem to stop. He’d been ready for at least ten minutes but found himself reluctant to leave the bathroom. It felt almost like Howard’s birthday again, he had the same sort of jittery excitement as he’d had then. Only this time there was only Howard waiting on the other side of the door. He supposed, if he were being entirely truthful, it had felt a bit like that the last time too. He’d wanted everyone to look at him, but he only cared if Howard did. Perhaps he’d overdone it a bit, but he’d wanted the day to be special. Just like he wanted the night to be special this time. It was making him feel spikey with nerves which just got worse with every minute he couldn’t make himself leave the bathroom.

He gripped the sides of the sink and took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. It felt almost strange to be wearing make-up again. It had only been a few weeks but he’d almost grown used to seeing his face without it again. He liked the way his eyes looked with the dark eye-liner, though, and he’d only added some highlights to his cheeks and some clear lip gloss. He was pleased with the outcome. The potion he’d bought earlier that day had indeed made his hair shiny and full of volume. He’d barely needed any hairspray at all.

He was pretty pleased with the robes too. He’d used heavy, almost silk-like fabric in light blue for the overcoat. It was cinched at the waist and had silver stars embroidered all over it, that you could barely notice unless the light hit them and then they twinkled prettily. Under that he’d made some more form-fitted trousers and a tunic in shiny sliver fabric; no way was he giving up on his skinnies. He’d considered a turban but had instead gone with a blue headband, wanting his hair to speak for itself. His boots weren’t as high as he’d have ideally liked, but they were at least covered in silver glitter, so he supposed they’d do.

He looked good. He was sure he did. But for some reason he couldn’t make himself walk out of the bathroom. He gave himself another two deep breaths before forcing himself to move. Howard would knock on the door any moment and he knew that would just make him more anxious. He closed his eyes and then pulled open the door.

Howard looked up from where he’d clearly been fussing at his out clothes. “What do you think?” Vine asked, doing a little twirl and enjoying how his coat fanned out around him.

Howard blinked at him. “You look…” he stopped and blinked again. “You look beautiful.”

He hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t that he thought Howard would be mean. Not least because he seemed to realise that starting a fight while they were here would be a terrible idea. But that didn’t mean he had to be _so_ nice. Vince couldn’t understand it. It didn’t seem like Howard was lying when he said all these nice things to him. But if he really meant them, why had he never said any of it before? It was confusing and it made him feel worried. So, he pushed the feelings away. “Cheers, Howard,” he said, ducking his head. “You look good too.”

Howard smiled with just one said of his mouth. That meant that while he was pleased, he thought Vince was full of shit. He wasn’t, but he knew there was no point in trying to convince Howard of that.

“Right,” Howard said, “shall we go?” He held one, crooked arm out to Vince for him to take. “I would like to escort you to the ball, if I may?”

“Leave off,” Vince said, worried that he was blushing, but taking Howard’s arm anyway. “It’s just another boring dinner and a club.”

Howard smiled at him before leaning down and kissing his softly the cheek. “You do look amazing,” he said softly, his voice gentle and intimate.

Vince felt like he was floating as they walked out of the flat. So of course it all went tits up within a few hours.

***

Vince sighed and looked around the packed club. The music was so loud that he could feel it pulsing through his chest. It wasn’t really his sort of music, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He’d tried to join for as long as he could bare it. But, he was sticky with sweat and he hadn’t seen Howard in ages. The dinner had been exactly like all the others apart from Dennis had droned on for nearly an hour instead of half an hour. He’d felt jittery with excitement about their plans and the warm glow of Howard’s words, and ended up drinking more wine than he normally would have. By the time they left, he’d had to hold onto Howard to keep from tripping.

But they’d got separated as soon as they got to club, Vince had been asked to pose for some photos at the doors and when he’d turned around Howard was gone. Since then, he’d seen him in glimpses from the other side of the room, talking to Gethin. Vince had tried to get over to him, but a seemingly endless stream of people wanted to stop him to press drinks into his hand, ask about his outfit, or take a picture, or have a dance. It wasn’t like Vince could say no, either, he wasn’t sure who anyone was and there was too great a risk of pissing the wrong person off and it hurting Naboo’s trial in some way.

He wasn’t really able to keep track of the time, but it must have been a couple of hours because he was starting to feel woozy and the room was spinning strangely. His thoughts were a big fuzzy, but he realised with a flash of concern that he and Howard hadn’t had a chance to enact their plan. He needed to find him in case Dennis left before they could do it. He looked around in vain for a few moments before resigning himself to having to do a full lap of the club. It was like an obstacle course; refusing drinks, taking photos, dodging people going in for a grope. He was sweaty and irritable by the time he finally located Howard.

He was sitting with Gethin, huddled in the back of the club. It was dark and their heads were leant toward one another. Something dark and unpleasant unfurled in Vince’s chest. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that way Howard kept talking about the shaman. The tour of the library, always asking his advice on everything. Gethin was clearly smart. Clearly into his books almost as much as Howard. Clearly _not_ into fashion and nights out. He knew that Howard probably prefer to hang out with Gethin, if given the chance.

But this was meant to be _their_ night. They were meant to be showing the world how in love _they_ were, not that Howard couldn't wait to be rid of him. That’s what London was for. He’d spent the whole night waiting to get back to Howard only to find that Howard clearly couldn’t care less.

He walked right up to the table and stood there, waiting for them to realise he was there. Gethin looked up first.

“Alright, Vince?” he asked, with a little smile.

Vince couldn’t quite make his face return it. “Alright,” he managed. “Howard, can I have a word?”

There was a pause where Howard looked light he might refuse, but then he nodded slowly and stood up. “Excuse me, Gethin,” he said.

The shaman just waved him away. “No worries,” he said. “I am shitfaced, to be honest with you. I should probably get a taxi.”

Vince turned and started to walk away so he didn’t hear Howard's response. “Where have you been?” He hissed when he felt Howard appears at his side.

“Where have _I_ been?” He asked, his voice hard. “If you have cared to even look, you would have known I was on my own for most of the night until poor Gethin had to take pity on me-”

“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mind,” Vince snapped back, feeling silly and frustrated with himself. Surely Howard didn’t think he’d _meant_ to leave him alone. If anything, it seemed like he’d been enjoying the chance to not have to be around him for an evening.

“What are you talking about?” Howard snapped back, just as a tall, angular shaman walked by them. He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking over them. “I know you’ve had a few drinks but-”

Vince took a deep breath. They couldn’t risk continuing a fight. “We should find out where Dennis is,” he said, cutting Howard off.

A strange look came over Howard's face, like he was surprised Vince had brought it up. He didn't know why. Perhaps he’d been hoping to get out of it. The thought stung, because Vince had been looking forward to it. The idea of someone walking in on him and Howard having a snog was exciting. Partly because he just really wanted to be able to kiss Howard again, but also it was proof of them being together. He wanted people to see that Howard wanted him. Wanted to be with him like that. It made his stomach squirm pleasantly. He didn’t want to give up on that. The thought made him feel silly and defiant all at once. Besides, he was sure that Howard had liked it when they were kissing before. He’d seen that Howard had enjoyed it, _felt_ it. I knew that was probably just because he’d never really snogged anyone before, but he’d thought that as least Howard would want to do it again or even if he wasn’t sure, then he could convince him with another kiss.

Eventually Howard nodded. “Fine,” he said, “I guess if you’re done showing off, we can go do another little performance.”

Vince bit the inside of his cheek firmly to stop from saying something nasty in response. The words were not he tip of his tongue. He could taste them, bitter and cruel. It was scary how quickly he found them, like the last few weeks hadn’t happened at all. “Come on,” he said, his voice tight. He grabbed Howard by the arm tightly and tugged him across the club. He just wanted to get back to how it had been before they left. If he could just show Howard that his plan was good, then maybe Howard would go back to smiling at him.

Only Dennis was nowhere in sight. They stumbled around the club for awhile before Howard pulled Vince to him.

“I don’t think he’s here,” he shouted. “Maybe we should leave it, perhaps you should return to your fans.”

“No,” Vince snapped, so annoyed at how quickly Howard was willing to give up on the idea, that the jab hardly registered at all. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

“Are you okay?” Howard said after Vince managed to trip over his feet for the second time in under a minute. “How many have you had?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Vince snapped, starting to feel a bit desperate. He wanted to kiss Howard. He wanted Dennis to see them. That’s what the last two weeks had been leading up to. He couldn’t mess it up, Howard would think he was even more of an idiot than he did now. “Let’s just…” He looked around wildly for a moment before catching sight of the DJ booth where Saboo and Tony were bickering over the song choices. Vince strode as close as he could to them and shouted over the music.

Tony didn’t seem to notice at first, but on the third attempt he looked over at Vince. “What?” he yelled over the din of the music.

“Where’s Dennis?” Vince asked again.

“That boring old fart left ages ago, can’t keep up with the pace. He was puking in the loos by 10.” He looked caught between delighted and disgusted.

Vince was paralysed for a long, sick moment. Then he spun on his heel and stalked away. Howard fell into step behind him, but Vince didn’t turn around to look at him. He walked right out of the club as quickly as he could. He just needed to get away. The whole room seemed to be spinning and it was suddenly hard to catch his breath.

This was probably the first time Howard had agreed to one of his plans and he’d managed to mess it up completely. He felt embarrassed and annoyed. But under that he felt stupid in a completely different way for believing that things might be different. That Howard would actually want to work with him on the plan, want to spend a real evening with him for once. This was what it had been like in London and he shouldn’t be so surprised that nothing had really changed. But he was. And that made him feel even sillier.

“That was a complete waste of time,” Howard sighed as they turned towards their flat. “I can’t believe that we spent all that time preparing and he didn’t even turn up!”

“Well,” Vince snapped, wanting to hide how stupid he felt, “if you hadn’t been so busy talking to that tit all night maybe we wouldn’t have missed him.”

“What are you talking about?” Howard said sharply. “You were the one posing for all those photos. Perhaps if you weren’t so busy soaking up your five minutes of fame, we’d have realised hours ago. But, obviously the little bit of attention was more important than m- Naboo.”

Vince felt his cheeks heat. Perhaps he had got a bit carried away taking pictures with people and posing for various magazine. But, it had been ages since people had seen excited and pleased to see him, he hadn’t meant to get so swept up in it. And he wouldn’t have, if Howard had actually been with him rather than sulking at the bar and talking to Gethin.

“It’s not my fault I look so good,” he said, as though that hadn’t been his intent. “Anyway what was I supposed to do if you were off with that moron? Stand on my own like a tit?”

“Gethin is actually a very nice man,” Howard said, opening the door to the flat and striding in.

Vince followed on his heels with a scowl. “Well,” he huffed, “if you think Gethin is so bloody special why don’t you just move in with him?”

Howard sighed in a way that made Vince want to smash something, like he was being a child.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said.

“I’m being ridiculous?” Vince asked. “You were all over him and you’re meant to be my boyfriend, or did you forget? We could get our heads lopped off while you’re chasing that ginger plonker.”

“I’m not chasing anyone,” he said, he looked genuinely confused and frustrated. But, rather than calming him down like he knew it ought to, it just made him more annoyed. “He seems like a very nice gentleman and I suppose if the circumstances were different-”

Vince felt cold suddenly. “So you _do_ fancy him!”

“No!” Howard snapped. “That’s not what I - I just meant that if I wasn’t here or things were different, but they _aren’t_ different.” He stepped forward and tried to capture Vince’s eye. He wanted to resist, look away and huff at him. But Howard was being oddly persistent. “Vince,” he said, finally making him still, “please believe me when I say that I would never do anything to embarrass you. While I’m your boyfriend - pretend or otherwise - I would never do something that would jeopardise that. We were talking. That’s it. He’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in him.”

He felt silly “He _is_ interested in you,” he said. He was pretty sure he was right too. Gethin stared a bit too long when Howard was talking. But there was no point in talking about it. The whole night had been a waste of time. And they were going home in a couple of days. Vince would never get to snog Howard again and the thought was making him want to cry.

“Vince,” Howard sighed, “as you’re normally at great pains to point out, I’m not exactly a catch. I think someone who has actual magical powers might have other interests.”

For some reason that just made Vince even more annoyed. “Whatever,” he sighed instead of starting another fight like he wanted to. “Let’s just go to bed.”

There was a long pause where he thought Howard would argue. But in the end he just sighed and went to the bathroom. Vince was left feeling winded. He’d let himself start to believe that Howard might care for him. Why did he never learn? He’d spent two weeks making an outfit for someone that probably couldn’t wait to be rid of him. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. He wanted to go home. He felt adrift here, not sure what was real any more. He didn’t know what was going to happen when they got home, but he knew it was going to hurt. And there was no one to blame but himself.

***

Howard had hoped that the tension from the night before would have eased by the following morning, but it hadn’t. Vince was quiet for from the moment they woke until they were picked up, then he spoke pointedly to Dennis for most of the ride and avoided saying anything to Howard unless it was unavoidable. He tried not to let it bother him. It made sense that Vince might want some space, but he really didn’t want their last day together to just be a continuation of the fight. He knew that he’d been a bit of tit the night before; seeing Vince back in the limelight had brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. It had been such a stark reminder that their current situation was temporary, and that Vince had already chosen the sort of life he wanted, and it didn’t contain Howard. It was his own fault for forgetting that, but it had still hurt. He took a deep breath and tried to push the thoughts away, concentrate on having one final, pleasant day with Vince.

The beach was beautiful. More idyllic even than the island they’d been marooned on. The trees came almost up to the shoreline leaving just a white strip of sand. Cliffs rose up out of the trees, waterfalls cascading down their sheer faces as vines scaled their heights like rope swings. They made their way to the shore line in silence once they’d been left alone.

He’d hoped Vince might perk up when he saw the water, but if anything, he seemed to draw in on himself further. A little frown was forming between his eyes, his face drawn tight. Howard tried to start conversation a couple of times only to be met with one-word answers. In the absence of any better plan, Howard spread out a blanket for them to sit on close to the water, so the waves were almost lapping at their feet. Howard wanted to enjoy it, but he couldn’t, the silence seemed to drown out even the sound of the water.

“I thought you’d like it here,” he tried, not sure why the mood was quite so terrible. The hangovers probably weren’t helping, but the fight hadn’t been _that_ bad. They’d certainly had much worse and it wasn’t like Vince to hold a grudge. He supposed it could just be the cracks showing, it was bound to happen eventually. It was hard to remember sometimes that Vince didn’t actually like him, that he was leaving the flat when they got back. Even so, they still had to get through the trial and not fighting was a vital part of that. He had to try, at least, to fix whatever had Vince acting this way.

“Why’d you think that?” Vince snapped, pulling his knees into his chest and scowling.

“The beach suits you,” he said, careful to keep his tone light, “all sand and frolics, isn’t it?”

“Well,” Vince said, “I ain’t got good memories of the beach.” The words were pointed enough that any chance of Howard thinking he wasn’t talking about their failed trip to America was lost.

He swallowed. “No,” he said, letting out a slow breath and sagging. “I suppose not.” Vince looked at him, as though surprised that Howard agreed. “It’s not as though _I_ exactly enjoyed it either,” he pointed out. “But, I, ah, I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry I ruined it for you too.” It felt better, in some ways, to say it. He hadn’t really apologised like that in the past. After all if he went around apologising every time he ruined the mood he’d get nothing done. But this was different, he knew that his messing up that trip had stayed with Vince, on some level, ever since.

There was a long a silence where Howard looked at his bare feet on the sand and waited. He didn’t want to know what Vince was thinking, part of him hoping that an apology would be an end to it. But Vince didn’t say anything and in the end he was forced to look back up. The other man was looking at him with a frown. “What?” he snapped. “I’m trying to apologise here.”

“What you apologising for, exactly, Howard?” Vince said, his hands balled into fists where they rested on his knees.

“For,” Howard gestured vaguely, remembering Vince’s beach party, all his friends and the fun they were having. Until Howard arrived. He took a deep breath and tried again. “For ruining the good thing you had going there, with… with all my trouble with Precious.”

Vince blinked at him. “You think I’m angry because you busted up my party by coming to me for help when you was being knocked around by your girlfriend?”

“Well,” he started, already knowing he was about to get this very wrong, “yes?”

Vince huffed and looked away. “Howard,” he said, “you’re _such_ a tit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The conversation was not going how he thought it would.

“I don’t mind that you came to me for help. That’s what… I thought that’s what we did. We were supposed to help each other. I don’t care that we got in trouble for it.”

Vince seemed so agitated that Howard’s heart squeezed in his chest. He wanted to reach out, and then remembered that he was technically allowed to now. He very carefully placed a hand on the other man’s arm. Vince’s eyes tracked down to it but otherwise he didn’t react. Howard removed it. “But you _are_ angry at me because of that trip?”

He watched Vince’s hands flex again before returning to fists. Then he nodded, his jaw tight.

“But, why?” Howard was genuinely confused. He knew he hadn’t covered himself in glory but he was sure it was because he’d managed to mess up Vince’s party. Dragging it down into a something terrifying and haunting, rather than light and happy, like Vince had made it. He’d assumed that Vince had finally had enough of him after that had finally seen him for what he really was – a drain on Vine and the happy, fun life he was trying to create.

“Because,” Vince burst out and then seemed to think better of it. “It don’t matter.”

He was right, probably. It really didn’t matter any more. It was too late for that. But Howard still wanted to know how he’d managed to mess up. It wasn't like he hoped to atone, not at this point, but knowing would help. “It matters to me,” he said in the end, because he didn’t know what else to try.

“You just… I just realised how much you don’t like hanging out with me,” Vince said softly. The words were so quiet Howard how to strain to hear them. “I guess you always made it clear before, that you thought I was… I dunno, beneath you or whatever, but I thought you was joking about that. But, then we get there and you’d rather be with people who you hate,” he looked up unhappily making eye contact for the first time that day, “who _hate_ you, Howard, rather than me.” He shrugged and looked away, trying to smile but it looked twisted and sad even to Howard. “I know it ain’t really your fault you felt like that, but it still hurt.”

Howard blinked. There were a lot of things he would have guessed Vince would say in answer to why he was never the same with him after America. But never that. It would never have occurred to him in million years to assume Vince would _care_ how he felt about him. He knew that his insults sometimes landed, but Vince seemed to shrug them off quickly, because at the end of the day, who cared what _Howard_ thought of him?  “That’s not…” he started, but there was too much to say. Vince had got it wrong in so many different ways that he wasn't sure where to even start.  “Vince, I don’t think you’re _beneath_ me.”

Vince’s eyes flicked to him and then away. “Yeah you do,” he said. “You always have. You’ve always thought I wasn’t smart enough or whatever. That’s why you’re always trying to find other people to be around.”

“I’m not-” Howard felt totally adrift. This was not a conversation he knew how to navigate. There were few he did, but this was totally alien. Vince being vulnerable was not something he was used to having to deal with. “You _are_ smart, Vince. I’ve never thought otherwise.”

“Leave off, Howard,” Vince said, scrunching his face and flicking his head irritably. “Stop trying to make me feel better. I know how you feel.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, drawing himself up, “but you clearly don’t. I’m not _trying_ to find anyone smarter, if anything it’s the opposite.”

“Then why are you always leaving?” Vince looked back up at him as he spoke.

He looked so upset that Howard wanted to turn away. He wanted to stand up and leave. If it wasn’t for the fact that there was literally nowhere to go, perhaps he would have. It was too much to ask Howard that question. He could only shrug. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know, but I think…” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He felt so tired suddenly that he just wanted to lie down and sleep for a year but he forced himself to continue. “I think that if I can just find the right place, achieve the next thing, then maybe I’ll be happy.”

“You ain’t happy?” Vince was back to looking at his knees.

Howard shook his head, it was like dragging something jagged and painful up from his chest. He’d never said the words out loud before, had hardly let himself think them. But if the last few weeks had taught him anything, it was that Vince deserved some sort of explanation. It wasn’t fair to leave and let him think it was anything other than Howard’s failings that led it to happen. “I’m not sure I've ever been happy.”

The words landed between them, almost like a physical blow and Vince flinched. Howard took a deep breath; it seemed fitting that they were having such a terrible conversation in the most beautiful place he’d ever been. If Howard couldn’t be happy here, with Vince, then he probably never would be.

“It’s like,” he continued slowly, “I don’t know - that part of me is broken. I can take anything - any situation - and be unhappy there. It’s like it’s following me around like a fog.”

“But,” Vince started, his brow creased, “I don’t understand what’s so terrible about your life. I love our life, is that why you think I’m thick, because I don’t want to leave it?”

Howard dropped his head into his hands and sighed. “This isn’t about you, Vince, can’t you see that? It’s about _me_. _I’m_ the problem. Not you.”

“But, it’s like,” Vince gestured, “it’s like you _want_ to be sad. Not everything has to be shit, you could just try and be happy, stop looking for everything to be shit!”

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” Howard said. “I don’t know why I take things that are good, that I want, and turn them into…” He sighed again.

“But, I could help!” Vince said, “Like, if you’d just said, I could have-”

“Vince,” he interrupted, “that’s exactly what I’m saying. I need to be what makes me happy. I’ve been leeching off you too long, can’t you see that? When I create a world, it’s with a girlfriend that _hates_ me that _sees_ that I’m…” he trailed off. “And if I make a friend he’s an arse, and he doesn’t even like me. But you… you create something beautiful. You were doing so well without me, Vince, and then the _moment_ I touched it, everything fell apart. I make everything terrible.”

Vince’s eyes were shining, which was the last thing Howard wanted. He looked away, back out at the ocean, so he didn't have to see it.

“But I didn’t even _know_ ,” Vince said. “I could have helped, or tried at least.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Vince,” he said. “I wish it was.”

“So, you’re just giving up?” Vince asked, his voice starting to sound hard and bitter.

“I’m…” Howard ran out of words. “I’m tired,” he whispered. “I’m just tired of it. I’ve been trying not taint you with this thing, but it’s not working. I just want to be alone so I’m not constantly worried about what I’m doing to you as well as myself.”

“That’s a coward’s way out.”

Howard nodded. That sounded right.

“Howard,” Vince started, “I know it’s hard, but if you just-”

“Just listen to me for once, will you?” he snapped, feeling hot and panicked. He’d never intended to have this conversation with Vince. He didn’t have the words for it. But he knew he was right. It was so clear to him that he couldn’t understand why the other man couldn’t see it.

“But what about the last month?” Vince said, his voice high-pitched and tinged with annoyance. “You’ve been _happy,_ I know you have.”

Howard shook his head. “This last month,” he said, “it’s been good, yes. But it’s also been a lie.”

He could hear the sharp intake of breath, a pained gasp Vince made, but didn’t turn to look at him.

“It’s been make believe, Vince, surely you can see that,” he tried. “I can be happy when it’s not real. But if we try and take that home, when you don’t _have_ to put up with me, then it’ll all fall apart again.”

“Fine,” Vince snapped, and Howard finally looked over to him to see him climbing to his feet angrily. “Whatever. If you’re not even going to _try_ …” He seemed to run out of words and turned to just stalked into the treeline instead.

Howard considered going after him, but he just couldn’t face a continuation of the argument. It wasn’t like there was anything left to say. Better to just leave him and let him realise that Howard was right.

***

Vince didn’t get very far into the trees before collapsing down onto a log and burying his face into his hands. He didn’t cry, just he screwed his eyes shut tightly and concentrated very hard on his breathing; just like Howard had taught him to do when he started to panic. His heart was racing and his heart was pounding, so it made sense to try the same technique.

Howard’s words had been like a physical blow and their meaning didn’t want to sit in his head properly, like they were too big to fit in there. He just wanted to sit on this log for a few weeks to try and understand what they meant, how he felt about them.

But he didn’t have that much time to gather himself; Dennis might be back any moment and they couldn’t be found like this when he arrived. He needed to try and get through to Howard now. He was clearly talking nonsense and if Vince could just find the right words to explain it, then maybe everything would be alright. Maybe Howard would come to his senses. He forced himself to his feet and back to the beach. Howard was still sitting where he’d left him. The short walk and his attempt to calm down had done little to make him feel better. His thoughts were still too loud and confusing. He wished Howard hadn’t decided to tell him all of that when he was hungover and had barely slept and was still anxious about their fight the night before.

He didn’t know what to make of what Howard had told him. He knew about depression. He’d heard his uncle talk about his mum in hushed tones when he was living with him. It made his insides squirm with fear to think of Howard being like that. His first instinct was to push the idea away entirely and pretend to not believe it, even though it was clear that it was true. The dark clouds that hung over Howard weren’t like the normal ones everyone got. He’d always known that, but he hadn’t realised they were _that_ bad. But he probably should have. This was his fault. He’d left Howard to deal with it alone and been stroppy and sulky instead of supportive.

He sat down next to Howard but the other man didn’t acknowledge him. Vince took a few slow breaths, still not sure what he wanted to say. “Sorry I got angry,” he said in the end.

Howard turned to face him, his expression closed. He nodded just once and then looked back out at the ocean.

“But you’ve got it wrong,” Vince said, trying to pick his words carefully. Sometimes they got tangled up, especially when he was worried and he didn’t want to get this wrong. “It’s not just you, it’s not like you being sad is why we don’t… why we argue.”

“Vince-” Howard started, his voice tight and agitated.

“No,” Vince cut in, his heart starting to hammer. He knew Howard; often you only got one chance to explain something. If you messed up, the conversation was over and no amount of trying to talk about it afterwards would help. “I mean it. You aren’t the only one that’s been a tit. I’ve done some stuff too.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Howard said. “I know that I was difficult to live with. I was condescending and I made you feel stupid when it suited me. I bossed you around at the zoo even though you could actually _talk_ to the animals. I understand why you lashed out.”

Vince could feel himself starting to panic. “Howard, just listen to me,” he snapped, “I stopped you getting a book deal back at the zoo and _I_ spread those rumours about you and Jack, and then I sprayed that graffiti on the shop.” It wasn’t exactly an exhaustive list of the things Vince had done because he was jealous or angry or scared Howard was about to leave again but it was a start. They were the things that sometimes kept him awake at night. “It’s not like you’re this terrible person that’s causing all the arguments. And maybe-” he started and had to stop to take a deep breath. “Maybe if it wasn’t for me you’d have had the life you wanted. But, I can be different! We _both_ can. I can help you! We’ll figure out how to make you happy together.”

Vince held his breath, waiting for Howard to start shouting or storm off. But nothing happened. Instead Howard reached out and took Vince’s hand.

“I don’t think that will work,” Howard said softly. “Everything you’ve just said? It’s just proof of what I’ve been saying. I’m contaminating you with this. Can't you see how _bad_ are for each other? We make each other miserable, it’s like a virus.”

That wasn't what Vince had meant at all. “No,” he started, so many words pressing at his chest that he wasn't sure which to let out first.

But he never got the chance to say any of them.

“Ah,” a voice from the clearing said, “gentlemen, are you ready to depart?”

Vince wanted to jump to his feet and start shouting that he wasn’t ready, there was still so much he wanted to say, but Howard was climbing to his feet and pulling Vince up with him by their joined hands. “Thank you, Dennis,” he said softly. “Yes, I could do with a nap at the flat before tonight’s feast.” There was a pained smile on Howard’s face that made Vince want to cry or scream in frustration.

Dennis inclined his head. “I’m afraid there is no time,” he said. “My business took me rather longer than intended and we must hurry. The trial is to begin in just a few hours and there is much to prepare before then.”

“What?” Vince said, his stomach plummeting. He’d thought they’d have another night before it started. He needed more time. In truth he’d almost started to believe that it wasn’t going to happen at all. They’d all spent so much time together that he’d sort of started to think maybe they’d just call the whole thing off. “But you said… it’s meant to be starting tomorrow!”

“Yes,” Dennis said, “at midnight tonight, it is time at long last. Come, as Naboo’s only witnesses you shall testify first and then you will either be permitted to leave or beheaded where you stand.”

A hundred denials and pleas clamoured to make their way out of Vince’s throat but none of them would come out. Instead he followed mutely behind Howard, gripping his hand tightly, willing some of his thoughts to make their way through their joined hands.

They didn’t even go back to the flat. Dennis took them straight to the great hall. Vince faltered as he stepped inside. Naboo’s cage was suspended again from the ceiling, he looked terrible; his face clearly pale and drawn even from all the way across the room. He was sitting at the back of the cage, his clothes in disarray and his turban gone completely.

“Vince!” Naboo called, trying to get to his feet as soon as they entered.

“Sit back down, criminal,” Dennis said, his voice cold. “You know you are not permitted to talk to the witnesses before the trial begins.”

To Vince’s great surprise Naboo did as he was told, he waited for him to say something cutting but nothing happened. He just sat down and watched them pass with a frozen expression on his face. The anxious feeling in Vince’s chest heightened, and he squeezed Howard’s hand tightly.

“Come,” Dennis said. “You will wait in another room while we prepare for the start of the trial.”

“Can we…” Howard started, looking worried. “What’s going to happen?”

Dennis glanced at him. “Someone will come to you later to explain the procedure.”

It was clear he didn’t intend to give them any more information so they walked slowly behind him in silence. Vince couldn’t not look up at Naboo as they passed. They made eye contact as he walked under him and he tried to grin up at him but wasn’t sure it was very convincing because Naboo didn’t even react. Dread was slowly filling his stomach. If Naboo couldn’t even come up with a sarcastic remark then something must be very wrong. He looked back quickly, just as they walked through the door Dennis had opened for them. Naboo was watching them, his face pale and serious, then the door closed firmly behind them.

“You shall wait here,” Dennis said again. Any warmth that had crept its way into the Shaman’s voice over the last month was gone. He looked distant and cold, like they’d never met before.

They were silent for a long moment. Vince didn’t have a watch, but suspected there was still a few hours until they’d be needed. “What a tit,” he said for lack of anything better to break the silence.

“I told you,” Howard said, there was something that might be smugness in his voice, but it was buried under clear tension.

“What’s going to happen?” Vince asked.

Howard shrugged. “I guess what we came here for,” he said. “We’ll give evidence that Naboo was with us the whole weekend and that we have no idea where that book could be.”

“That simple?” Vince asked, his chest tight.

“That simple,” Howard agreed, but it was clear he didn’t believe it any more than Vince did.

“Howard,” Vince started, “about before-”

“I’m _starving_ ,” Howard announced loudly over him.

He shot Vince a look that could not have more clearly said, ‘Not now’ than if he’s shouted the words. It was probably a terrible time for them to risk being heard talking about their relationship and thus blow their cover. They’d just have to talk about it afterwards. Surely they’d be done by the early hours and they could go back to their little flat and talk. Vince would just have to sit Howard down and explain why he was being stupid. They’d done everything together for most of their lives, they could do this too.

“Yeah,” Vince agreed, “I hope they bring us some food or I might faint on the stand.”

Howard’s shoulders relaxed at Vince’s obvious agreement not to continue their conversation from the beach. Only, Vince now couldn’t think of anything else to say. Every time he thought about giving evidence his stomach twisted uncomfortably and his chest got tight. Only he couldn’t exactly talk about London either, so what was there left to say? So, he sat down on one of the chairs lining the walls of the room and looked at his knees. Howard paced for what seemed like hours before joining him.

Eventually, the sounds of the hall filling with people drifted into the room. Vince tried not to fidget but he couldn’t stop thinking about Naboo’s face and how worried he’d looked. Not at all like he was just about to be cleared of his crimes and allowed to leave. He wanted to ask Howard about it, but didn’t want to worry him. So instead he concentrated on sitting still and not playing with his hair. It was already probably a mess from being on the beach all day and he wanted to give a good impression when he was on the stand.

The door opened suddenly, making Vince jump to his feet. Saboo entered with a customary scowl firmly in place.

“Right, you two insufferable bell ends,” he said, “we’re just about to start.”

Howard nodded at Vince’s side. “Okay, will we be called first?”

Saboo nodded. “Dennis’ speech should only last an hour and if we’re not all dead from the tedium, you’ll be called one at a time.”

“Alright,” Vince said, trying to seem relaxed and happy with the situation, “sounds good to me.”

“But, first,” Saboo said, eyes narrowed, “we shall administer the truth serum.”

Vince tried to lock his face but suspected it dropped visibly. His heart was started to beat harder, making his blood rush in his ears.

“Truth serum?” Howard said, his voice a little weak. Vince didn’t dare look at him.

“Yes of course,” Saboo said, “you think we’re idiots? No way are we letting two moronic humans take the stand without drugging them up their eyeballs first.”

“But,” Howard spluttered, “but if you had truth serum, why didn’t you just use it on Naboo in the first place instead of going through all this?”

“Oh,” Saboo said, crossing his arms across his chest, “look at this genius. Of course that never ruddy occurred to us because we’re simpletons.” He didn’t wait for the obvious sarcasm up to land before continuing. “It doesn’t work on shaman, you toss pot. We’re naturally resistant to potions of all kinds.”

“Right,” Howard said, “yes. Right.”

Under the rushing in his ears Vince was mentally kicking himself. Of course they weren’t just going to be able to lie in a magic court of law. It was obvious. If only they’d thought about it for more than a moment it would have been clear. If only he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his worries about Howard and how everything _looked_ all the time, he would have known that.

“But,” Saboo said, his lips curling a bit nastily, “that’s okay, right? Not like you two have been lying to us this whole time, is it?”

Vince swallowed and reached out to grip Howard’s hand. It wasn’t like he planned it, his body just seemed to seek out the comfort automatically. Howard didn’t pull back, just squeezed Vince’s hand tightly. Saboo’s eyes tracked to the movement and Vince tried to glare back at him.

“No,” Howard said, gripping Vince’s hand tightly. “No, of course not.”

“Good,” he said, “because Dennis tends to behead first and ask questions later if people are found trying to pulling our collective legs. So!” He clapped his hands making Howard and Vince jump. “Who’s going first?”

“Me,” Howard said immediately. “Me, I’ll go.”

“No, Howard!” Vince said, his heart seeming like it might be about to crack one of his ribs with its terrified beating. “I can go-”

Howard turned to him and smiled; it was a little fixed but he had to give him credit for trying. “It’s fine,” Howard said. “Makes no difference which of us it is. Why don’t you just see if you can find Bollo while I’m on the stand-”

“As if,” Saboo cut in, “we’re not letting either one of the titbags out of our sight. Vince will watch with me while you answer questions.”

Howard’s hand went slack in Vince’s for a moment, his face momentarily panicked. But Vince watched as he slowly pulled himself back together; he’d got better at that since he realised he was a good actor. Sometimes now Vince wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. He hated it.

Saboo pulled out a small bottle from his robes, with a luminous green liquid inside. Vince watched in horror as he handed it to Howard. “You first,” he snapped, “drink half of this.”

There was only the slightest hesitation as Howard brought the bottle to his lips and drank. Saboo was watching him carefully. “Done?”

“Yes,” Howard said, handing back the bottle.

“Good,” he said, “Now sit here and be quiet until I come back for you. And you,” he pointed at Vince, “come with me.”

Vince paused, then darted forward and planted a kiss on Howard’s lips. “Good luck, Howard,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

The corner of Howard’s mouth lifted. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his eyes slightly glassy.

“Oh, _God,_ ” Saboo said, reaching forward and grabbing hold of Vince’s shirt. “It’s kicking in. let’s get out of here. I’m not listening to terrible poetry from this sad sack.”

Vince stumbled as he was pulled toward the door. He looked at Howard, trying to figure out if the potion really was working or if was Howard trying to play it off as though it were. He wanted offer another form of reassurance and get some in return, but there wasn’t any time. He was pulled out of the door and Saboo closed it firmly behind them.

The great hall had been turned into something that vaguely resembled an Earth courtroom. There were rows of seats, with an isle down the middle, all facing two stands. Naboo was standing behind one and the other was empty, presumably waiting for Howard. Dennis was pacing at the front of the room, his robes trailing behind him.

Vince tried to make eye contact with Naboo, but he was looking at his hands. He looked small, like he might have lost weight over the last few weeks. Guilt flooded Vince’s chest. He should have been thinking more about the trial, more about how he was going to get Naboo out of there, not how good to felt to be Howard’s fake boyfriend. But it was too late now, he was being forced into a seat between Saboo and Kirk as Dennis raised his arms for silence.

His speech was indeed long but Vince didn’t hear a word of it, he was too busy trying to figure out a way to escape. Surely he could create a distraction or something that would allow them time to get away. But his mind seemed to just be whirring uselessly, nothing at all coming to him, other than standing up and screaming. He certainly felt like doing that, but he wasn’t sure it would achieve anything other than being tackled to the ground by Saboo. Perhaps Howard was coming up with something, he usually had a plan, they didn’t always work, but they often bought them time until someone else’s plan could save them.

All too quickly Dennis seemed to stop speaking. Vince’s attention snapped to him, his heart starting to speed up again.

“And now,” he called, his face barely masking his pleasure, “we call the first witness to the stand: Howard Moon.”

Saboo stood and swept from Vince’s side into the back room and soon reappeared dragging Howard by his elbow. The other man’s eyes were unfocused and he looked pale. He looked so ill that Vince started to get to his feet before Kirk pulled him back down into his seat. He was surprisingly strong and Vince gave him a half-hearted glare but didn’t attempt to stand up again.

Dennis looked behind him, directly at Vince, before turning to stand in front of where Howard was swaying in place. “Howard Moon,” Dennis began, “you are here to give your account of where the Shaman Naboo was on the night of March 24th of this year.”

Howard nodded his head. “Vince asked me to come,” he said.

Vince balled his hands tightly into fists, willing Howard to stop talking. He’d seen enough movies to know that truth potions made you spill all manner of secrets than just the one your were being asked about. Just one of the things Howard was currently not saying would be enough to kill them all. As though he could sense Vince’s fear, Howard turned to him and their eyes met.

“Don’t worry, little man,” Howard said, his voice gentle and only slightly slurred. “I don’t like it when you’re scared; it makes me feel like I’ve failed.”

Vince squirmed in his seat, his face heating as everyone around them laughed or let out little ‘aww’s of apparent joy. He was starting to see why everyone here enjoyed trial, a month of feasting and partying followed by a show where witnesses humiliated themselves, all topped off with a beheading. But, under his terror mixed with embarrassment and fear of how angry Howard would be that he’d said that out loud in front of people, there was a little thrill of pleasure. He knew Howard was protective of him, or that he had been in the past, and the idea he still felt that way warmed him.

Dennis cleared his throat. “And you came because of your love for him?”

Vince barely had the chance to hold his breath before Howard was nodding. “I’d go anywhere he needed me to. If I could help him, I would-”

“Yes,” Dennis interrupted, apparently not as interested in the rest of the sentence as Vince was. “We get the picture.”

Something strange was happening in Vince’s chest. It felt like he might be about to explode. His heart was beating strangely. Because, despite the fact they were all about to die, it hadn’t escaped his notice that Howard had just admitted that he loved him. Under the influence of truth potion. Howard loved him. It felt for a moment like he was about to float right up to the ceiling before he came crashing back down to Earth with the next question.

“You and your partner came here because you claim Naboo was with you the night the book went missing,” he started slowly, clearly loving the drama he thought he was building.

Howard found Vince’s eyes again, he looked pained and Vince suddenly wanted to cry. They were going to die when the best thing that had ever happened to him had happened just a moment before. He wanted to stand again, but Kirk’s hand shot out, gripping Vince’s arm tightly. He saw Howard’s eyes track to where Vince was being held and ball his hands into fists. Vince swallowed and shook his head, trying to convey that it was fine. _He_ was fine. It was lie, but he didn’t want the last thing Howard saw to be him terrified and in pain.

“Is that true?” Dennis finished, his face triumphant.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vince saw Naboo drop his head into his hands. This was it. They were doomed. Howard seemed to know it too, his eyes were wide and his face pale. He took a breath and

Vince closed his eyes.

 

**TBC**


	6. Chapter six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial is at an end, but where's that leave Howard and Vince?

“Wait!” The door banged open with an unlikely massive boom. “Stop the trial!”

Vince opened his eyes and turned his head, along with the rest of the room, toward the door. Gethin and Bollo were standing in the doorway, their faces were half-hidden in shadow, but Vince could see that they were out of breath. Bollo was holding a struggling Tony in his arms and Gethin was holding a slim paperback aloft in one hand.

“We’ve found the book!” Gethin shouted.

“Tony, you pink nut sack,” Saboo said, standing and sweeping down the centre of the chairs. “What have you done?”

“It ain’t my fault!” Tony protested. “I must have been off my tits and borrowed it for that spell on getting rid of the clap.”

“You truly are the worst example of a semi-sentient being,” Saboo said, wearily. He snatched the book from Gethin’s hand and looked at it. “It’s the real book,” he sighed. “This entire month has been a complete waste of my time.”

“Oi!” Tony complained. “Mine too. I missed going to Ibiza with the lads for this.”

“You are have _got_ to be kidding me,” Saboo begun, drawing himself up, but Dennis shouted over him.

“Bring the book to me,” he bellowed. There were two bright spots of colour staining his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. Vince watched, barely daring to move. Howard was swaying in place, his mouth tightly closed as though straining to keep quiet, as though the words were trying to escape, despite his best effort.

Saboo walked back down the isle of chairs and handed over the book, with a scowl. Howard turned his head to look at it, frowning like he was trying to read the cover. Vince held his breath, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“This is the book we sought,” Dennis said, his jaw tight with obvious anger. “Naboo, you are found not guilty of this crime and are free to leave.”

There was chaos.

Dennis spared the courtroom one last look, somewhere between embarrassment and annoyance, before sweeping from the room. Everyone around Vince seemed to be shouting, either in outrage or pleasure. Or perhaps just because everyone else was shouting. Kirk had leapt to his feet, going to join Tony and Saboo. Bollo had pushed through the crowd to Naboo who was climbing down from the stand a look of relief on his face.

Vince got to his feet and ran towards Howard as he stumbled from the stand. He reached out to help steady him before flinging his arms around his neck.

“I thought we were for it there,” he whispered. “That was well dramatic.”

“Me too,” Howard agreed, and to Vince’s delight wrapped his arms around him tightly. “I tried to fight it,” he said, pulling back, “but it was too strong. I’m sorry I nearly-”

“Don’t be daft,” Vince said. “It’s a _magic potion,_ you can’t fight that. No one could.”

He wasn’t sure if Howard even heard him, his eyes were still glassy and he looked almost pained as he reached out to touch Vince’s face softly. Vince leant into his hand. Howard seemed to be struggling to focus and Vince could feel how unsteady he was on his feet.

“How are you feeling?” Vince asked, suddenly worried that he might be having a bad reaction to the potion.

“I’m scared that they’re going to change their minds, I feel dizzy and a bit sick, I’m worried that you think I let you down and I’m scared you won’t look at me the same after what I told you earlier.” That wasn’t what Vince had meant and he opened his mouth to stop Howard from talking but was cut off. “I can’t stop wanting to kiss you. Especially now, because you look so beautiful when you’re worried. Your eyes get even bigger.” He paused to stroke a thumb over Vince’s cheekbone. “They’re so blue. I’ve written poems about your eyes.”

“Okay,” Vince cut in. He had to press his lips together firmly to stop them from forming the biggest of grins like they wanted to. “You should probably stop talking,” he said reluctantly. “You’ll just be angry with me later if I let you say much more.”

“You’re so kind,” Howard said. “I wish you knew that’s the best bit of you. It must be hard to, when you look like you do, but that’s just the wrapping. The underneath is even better, though, I always meant to tell you that, but I never knew how.”

Vince reached out to clamp a hand over Howard’s mouth. “Alright, seriously. Enough.” Howard’s words made him feel like he was going to float away on a wave of pleasure but it wasn’t worth how annoyed he’d would be once he was himself again. “Let’s just… be quiet until this wears off.”

He looked around for Saboo, who might have the antidote or at least something that would speed up the potion’s effects. A moment of searching found the remaining members of the council arguing loudly on the other side of the room.

“Stay here,” Vince said, trying to sound firm. “Don’t speak to anyone.”

He’d have preferred to stay together but he couldn’t risk Howard saying anything that might give them away. It was probably too late to matter, but there was no way Vince was risking it. Howard nodded at him, his eyes unfocused but he was smiling faintly so Vince turned and hurried to Saboo.

“Is there something Howard can take to counteract the truth potion?” he asked without waiting for whatever argument he was interrupting to end.

Saboo’s eyes snapped to him. “No,” he said. “But it’ll only last for an hour or so at most.”

Vince bit down on the angry retort that wanted to launch itself at the shaman. “Fine, can we go at least?”

“For the love of all that is good, please leave and never come back.” Saboo gave him a final glare and was already turning to continue his argument but Vince spoke loudly before he could.

“And Naboo?”

“Yes,” Saboo snapped. “Get them both out of here.”

Vince turned to where Naboo was leaning against Bollo, still looking pale but at least the pinched expression of fear was gone. Howard was swaying slightly where he stood a few feet away from them. Vince paused, not sure who to go to first. Then Howard looked over at him and smiled. Vince was at his side in just a few hurried steps.

“Okay,” he said, quietly but firmly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Howard opened his mouth but Vince put his hand over it again.

“Seriously,” he said, “no speaking. Let’s just wait an hour.”

He pulled him over to Naboo who looked up at them both and sighed. “You two,” he said, “honestly. There’s not a situation that you can’t make worse, is there?”

Vince opened his mouth in outrage and closed it again. Then felt compelled to open it again and say, “Bollo brought us here!”

“Bollo’s an idiot,” Naboo sighed.

“Oi!” Vince snapped, feeling offended for everyone involved, “he just saved your life!”

“Gethin saved my life,” Naboo said with a scowl, “and only because he wants to get off with my sister and I sent Bollo off to help him follow Tony and break into his house. You two being involved just nearly got us all beheaded.”

Vince looked across the room to find Gethin talking to an incredibly beautiful, incredibly tall, woman with long dark hair. “ _That’s_ your sister?” Vince asked.

“Yes,” Naboo snapped. “You’ve been here a month and haven’t met any of my family?”

A trickling sense of guilt crept down Vince’s spine. “Erm…” he started.

“Ah ha!” Howard interrupted loudly. “I knew he didn’t fancy me.”

Naboo looked for a moment like was going to say something cutting but in the end didn’t seem to think it was worth it. “I’m going to go and eat a tray of brownies and sleep for week,” he said instead. “Neither of you get in any trouble while I’m gone.”

“A thanks wouldn’t kill you,” Vince muttered, feeling both annoyed and embarrassed, despite the lingering relief that nothing terrible had happened.

“I would like you to appreciate the sacrifices we went through,” Howard agreed, in the same slow voice he’d been talking in since taking the potion. “I know you dislike me on a personal level, but I have tried to act as a friend. Although I got distracted with everything that’s happening between Vince and I – Which, I suppose, has come with its own-”

“Howard!” Vince shouted over him, ready to put his hand over his mouth again if needed.

Naboo looked at them blankly before blinking and shaking his head. “Get him to sleep it off, yeah?” he said, motioning to Howard with his head. “I don’t need to know what's going on in his head; the last month’s been depressing enough.” He didn’t wait for an answer before walking somewhat unsteadily towards the door.

Bollo shuffled his feet nervously. “Bollo sorry he almost got precious Vince beheaded,” he grunted. “Bollo not remember about truth potion.”

Vince sighed. “It’s fine, Bollo,” he said. “Just go and check on Naboo. I’ll get Howard back to the flat.”

Bollo patted Vince’s shoulder only making he stumble slightly before ambling after Naboo out of the room.

Vince took a deep breath and turned to Howard. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you to bed.” Howard opened his mouth but Vince leapt forward and placed his hand over it. “Don’t say anything,” he added. “Just keep your mouth closed until the potion’s worn off.”

Howard nodded.

Vince felt a smile creep over his face as he looked at Howard’s expression. It looked like he was trying his best to seem serious, but a hazy smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked soft in a way that Vince hadn’t seen in ages, years maybe. Vince ignored the way his stomach fluttered and grabbed Howard's hand and started toward the door.

A few people tried to intercept them but he put on his most charming smile and politely but firmly told them that it had been a long day and he needed to get Howard to bed. They mostly seemed content to let them pass after that, but Vince didn’t give them a chance to disagree by continuing to walk forward with a smile firmly in place. He didn’t stop until they were at their little flat and Howard was fumbling with his keys.

Vince flipped on the lights when they entered. “Would you like some water?” He wanted to ask if Howard was okay, but was worried it would cause another stream of consciousness. He _really_ wanted to ask him about what he’d said both on the stand and then in answer to Vince’s own questions. He wanted to ask him straight if he’d really meant he loved him or not. But it was unfair. Howard would hate him for it if he did.

Howard opened and then closed his mouth before settling for a shake of his head.

“I’ll get you one just in case,” Vince said, unsure what else to do with himself. “You should get into bed. You must be knackered.”

Vince turned and fussed with getting a cup and running the water until it was cold. Then he filled the cup slowly. When he turned back, Howard hadn’t moved. “What?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

“I don’t want to sleep alone,” Howard said, even as his cheeks started to go pink. Perhaps the potion was already wearing off, Howard hadn’t seemed to notice what he was saying before.

“Okay,” Vince said, trying hard not to feel pleased and ignore the little flutter of excitement in his stomach. “Get in. I’ll be there in a minute; I’ve just got to use the bathroom.”

Howard paused like he was going to argue, but in the end he reached for the buttons on his shirt and started to undo them. Vince turned and went into the bathroom. By the time he’d returned, Howard was safely tucked up under the covers and Vince clambered into the bed beside him. Howard reached out to grab hold of Vince’s hand and let out a slow breath, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, before closing his eyes.

It felt like a million questions were all pressing against Vince’s chest, desperate to get out, but he swallowed them down. Too much had happened in the last few hours for him to get his head around. He needed time to think about it all.

The conversation at the beach made him feel anxious, guilty and sad all at once. But then he thought about what Howard had said after taking the potion and his heart got all fluttery, like it was trying to escape his chest. He wished he knew how it all fitted together. Obviously, Howard had meant what he’d said in the last hour or so, but he was sure he’d also meant what he’d said at the beach. He just didn’t understand how that worked. If Howard really felt that way about him, then why would he want to leave? It had never occurred to Vince to leave, not even when he was at his most furious with Howard.

It felt like he’d never sleep, despite the fact Howard was snoring softly within moments which hardly ever happened; Howard tended to toss and turn in bed while Vince drifted off pretty quickly. Probably because he was usually so tired by the time he was in bed that he was half asleep before he was even horizontal. He’d learnt that he didn’t really need that much sleep, perhaps more than he’d been getting lately, but certainly not as much as Howard who seemed to always be tired, no matter how much he slept. That was another thing Howard and Vince’s mum shared, now he thought about it. Vince’s heart started to pound in his chest and he rolled over, trying to shake the thought. He hadn’t thought about his mum in ages. He’d got pretty good at not thinking about her at all and didn’t want to start now, especially in relation to Howard.  

The light was starting to creep through the curtains before Vince managed to fall asleep and even then it was restless, the sort where it felt worse than if he’d just stayed up all night. He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, not wanting to be in the bed when Howard woke.

Howard was standing next to the kettle, two mugs with tea bags in them in front of him, staring into space when Vince came out of the bathroom. He startled and looked at Vince, his cheeks turning pink before looking at the kettle and flicking it on hastily.

“You alright?” Vince asked, slowly.

Howard smiled without much humour. “I’m fine,” he said, sounding rueful. “I’m…” He looked at Vince and shrugged. “Thank you for not letting me run my mouth off yesterday.”

Vince smiled. “You should be,” he said, trying to grin. “Imagine the blackmail material I could have got.”

Howard let out a little huff of laughter. “Surely you have enough of that to last a lifetime already.”

He shrugged. “Some more can’t hurt.” He paused, wanting to ask about what Howard had really meant the day before, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

“Shall I make some breakfast?” Howard asked before he could put the thoughts into words. “We should probably pack… but…”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed, disappointed that the moment had gone, but not wanting to turn down he offer and also not relishing the thought of packing. He had been avoiding thinking about this being their final morning together.

They ate mostly in silence, Vince kept trying to think of things to say but wasn’t sure which of the hundred things that had happened the day before to start with. In the end he settled on, “Good that Naboo is okay.”

“Yeah,” Howard nodded slowly.

“Rude, though,” Vince added, “not even saying thanks.”

Howard’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Almost like being locked in a cage for a month doesn’t agree with him.”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Still…”

“That’s Naboo,” Howard said. “He’s never really been one for affection, has he?”

“I suppose,” Vince said thoughtfully.

“Right,” Howard said, pushing back from the table slowly but deliberately. “I suppose we should start packing and…” he gestured around the room.

Vince looked around and noticed that somehow the little flat had filled with their things. Not just the clothes they’d been brought but also things they’d picked up over the month: Howard's books, Vince’s sewing things, some little keepsakes they’d found in Fake Camden. Somehow it seemed more homely than Vince’s actual room in London. He felt a pang at the thought of leaving, at everything that they’d be leaving behind. He didn’t want to face any of the conversations they’d been putting off. But, at least he had the memory of what Howard had said under the potion.

It didn’t take long for them to cram their things into bags, they decided to leave the things they borrowed stacked in a corner rather than bother returning them. Howard was waiting next to the door as Vince put away the last of his things. He wanted to take his time over them, but felt silly with Howard looking at him. So instead he zipped his bag closed and carried it reluctantly overly to Howard. He tried to smile but he knew it was a bit feeble.

Howard reached out to take his bag and the gesture made Vince feel so sad that he had to look away. It was probably the last little act he’d perform as Vince’s boyfriend. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it, because Howard quickly turned and headed out of the door. Vince locked up the little flat in silence and followed Howard down the street. He didn’t look around as they walked, there was no point in sulking about the fact they had to leave, and fixating on all the things he’d miss wouldn't help. A few people waved or shouted their goodbyes as they left and Vince forced a grin onto his face to return the sentiment.

Gethin was on reception as the left the forest. He got to his feet with a nod of his head as they approached.

“Alright?” he asked. “Wild night, eh?”

Howard smiled. “Thank you for what you did for Naboo, and for us.”

Gethin waved a hand dismissively. “You’re alright,” he said. “I knew that little pink shit had it. He’d’ve let Naboo lose his head rather than look under his bed. What a tit.”

“Well,” Howard said, “we appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Vince forced himself to say. “Thanks. I hope this means you can go out with Naboo’s sister now.”

Gethin ducked his head and grinned. “I doubt it, she’s been giving me the run around for years. Still, every little helps, don’t it?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Howard said, reaching and clapping the shaman on the arm.

Vince watched the movement, and the way Gethin grinned, and tried to push down the wave of irritation that flooded his stomach. It didn’t matter that he knew they were only friends, he still didn’t like it. He thought about what Howard had said about them not being good for each other and swallowed, looking down at his boots, suddenly terrified and not sure what to do with all the emotions in his chest.

“Good luck, Gethin,” Howard said, his voice a bit overly formal, like it got when he was trying to be sincere. “Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“Oh, yeah, I might pop by the shop one time,” Gethin said easily, with a genuine smile. “See Naboo and that.”

Howard’s face froze for a moment but then he smiled again. “Sounds good, we’ll see you then.”

“See ya, fellas,” he said.

They walked slowly out of the forest and then the office building. It took them a surprisingly short amount of time to get back to the real London. Vince felt the difference immediately, a sort of change in the air; London felt a bit heavier. Perhaps it was just the pollution, but it was like the lack of magic to keep it going was weighing it down.

“Well,” Howard said eventually, as they arrived at the shop, “that was a hell of a holiday.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Vince’s chest. “Classic holiday for us, in fear of our lives for most of it, getting a bollocking from Naboo right at the end.”

“And all finished off with a near beheading,” Howard finished, opening the door and walking through the shop and up the stairs.

“Perfect,” Vince agreed.

He was still smiling right up until they entered the flat. He stopped in the middle of the living room, cold filling his chest and the breath knocked out of him. Howard was rooted to the spot a few steps in front of him.  

“Your stuff…” Vince started but didn’t have the words to finish the sentence.

“I asked Leroy to come and take it, I sent him a message before we left,” Howard said slowly. “I thought…” He trailed off. “I thought this would be what you’d want, so I could be gone right away.”

They hadn’t talked about it, Vince realised with the sort of sinking horror that made him want to sink to his knees. Not since they were last in London. Despite what Howard had said on the beach, he’d never believed it would actually happen. He’d assumed that the whole ‘Howard moving out’ thing would be forgotten with everything that had happened while they’d been away. It was stupid, _he_ was stupid, but he’d been so happy with the last couple of weeks and the way they’d been living that it never even occurred to him that it would all have to end when they arrived back in London.

He swallowed heavily.

But nothing _had_ changed. Howard was still sad and didn’t want to be with Vince. Nothing at all had changed even though it felt like everything had. Even though he’d wanted it to with every fibre of his being.

A month ago he’d have been furious with Howard for not warning him. For even thinking about leaving, let alone getting Leroy to move his things out of their flat. But now he just wanted to cry. Now he knew exactly what he was losing when Howard left and it made his chest and throat tight.

“Where’s the new flat?” he asked slowly instead, his voice small.

“Stratford,” Howard said. It was like Vince could feel his awkwardness at having to have the conversation coming off him in waves. “There’s loads of new places there and Leroy’s new girlfriend works for one of the developers, so I got a good deal.”

Stratford. He might as well have said the Moon.

He forced himself to nod. The silence filled the flat like a physical presence, but Vince had no clue how to break it.

“I guess,” Howard said slowly. “I suppose all my stuff’s there and it’s late, so I should probably go.”

It felt like Vince had missed a step going the stairs, his stomach lurched alarmingly. “No,” he said, “just…” He forced himself to turn. “Don’t go yet. I could…” He looked about the flat. “I can make you a of cup tea…”

He could see Howard getting ready to protest, his face was scrunched and he was almost shaking his head. He could hear the desperation in his own voice, so there was no way Howard could have missed it. But it was too late to pretend, and the thought of Howard actually leaving was too much. He needed to buy some time.

“You can’t just leave, Howard!” he burst out, the words ripping right out of him. “Not after what you said during the trial. You can’t say those things and then just leave without… You can’t just leave.” He hadn’t expected the words to come out, but he needed Howard to stay and he wouldn’t have stopped them even if he could have.

Howard slowly deflated. “Okay,” he said, like he was being sentenced to death again or something, “okay. I’ll make us a cuppa and we can talk.”

Vince let out a slow breath. It would do. He knew, on some level, that all he’d done, all he’d _been_ doing for ages, years and years, was been delaying Howard leaving him. He’d found hundreds of ways to do it, sabotaging his chances to leave, following him across cities, forming bands, changing his look. Looking back, it was almost impressive, the different ways he’d found to do it. A cup of tea was the very least of it.

Howard went to the kitchen and started to pull mugs and tea bags out of the cupboards. Vince watched him and wondered if that would be the last time he ever saw him do it. The idea was slippery, like it didn’t want to stay in his head.

He sat on the sofa and waited for Howard to finish. He wanted to come up with something to say before he came back, some set of words that would show Howard he was being stupid and that he should stay. His mind remained terrifyingly blank and then Howard was walking back over and gingerly sitting down on the other end of the sofa.

They were silent for a long time. Howard didn’t look at Vince, his eyes focused on his clasped hands in his lap. Vince looked between him and the steaming mugs of tea on the table. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It felt like every passing second was bringing the end closer but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was making his chest tight with fear.

“I wish I knew why I felt like this,” Howard said eventually to his hands. “I wish that I could just be happy but I-” Howard trailed off but didn’t look up at Vince.

Vince wished he could remember more about what had happened with his mum, surely there was something in there that might help, but that time was a like a grey smudge in his memory. He had no idea how Howard felt, but there was one thing that he _did_ understand. “Is it,” he started, not sure how to explain his thoughts. “Is it like when I got scared when was younger?”

Howard looked at him, his brow creased in obvious confusion.

“I mean, I know you’re sad not scared, but, like, it weren’t like going to school was actually all that scary either but I still felt…” Vince had never had the words to adequately describe the reasons his chest got tight and he couldn’t breathe, or the way the panic clawed at his throat, making it feel like he might be dying. He wasn’t even sure why or what set him off. It just happened sometimes. It wasn’t until he started spending more time with Howard, making sure he ate properly and slept enough that they started to fade. Howard made sure that he kept a routine and that seemed to make everything seem less loud and colourful and scary. He didn’t have the attacks anymore but he remembered them. “I couldn’t help them attacks and it weren’t that I was scared, I was just…”

Howard was at least looking at him now. “You had plenty of reasons to feel anxious Vince,” he said. “That was just your body’s way of coping with it.”

Vince shrugged, the memory of the terror he’d felt the first time his body stopped cooperating making him feel shaky years and years later. “Maybe you have lots of reasons to feel sad, maybe that’s your body’s way of coping too.” He bit his lip, before hurrying to continue. “I didn’t know you was sick, Howard.”

He knew he’d said something wrong immediately; Howard’s body tensed and hands twisted in his lap, the knuckles turning white. “I’m not-” He sighed. “I’m just…” Vince wanted to speak, tension was filling his chest with every annoyed expression that flickered across Howard’s face. But he held his tongue; Howard had never talked like this before and he didn’t want to risk derailing him. It took a few long, painful moments for Howard to speak again. “I just wish I knew how not to be so tired all the time. I keep waiting to feel… something again, but I just don’t.”

Panic was starting to rise in Vince’s chest. It didn’t sound like Howard was interested in staying so they could work on whatever this was together.  “Is there something I can do?” He wanted to ask if it was his fault, but he couldn’t make the words form.

Howard shook his head. “No, it’s not…” He sighed. “That’s what I’m saying, Vince. I think this is just me. I’ve always felt like this, or like this was hovering just out of view. I’ve always felt like I was sinking but now…” He shrugged irritably. “That’s why I have to go, I think I need to be on my own. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“But,” Vince said desperately, “we’re a team! I’m your best mate. I’m meant to help you!”

“I know, Vince,” he said, “but I’m making both of us sad instead of just me, and seeing you like that is making me worse and it’s just a vicious circle.”

Vince sniffed. He didn’t want to cry so he balled his hands into fists instead. “I didn’t know I was making you worse.” The words _hurt._ It was like they were barbed as he forced them out of his mouth.

“Oh _Vince_ ,” Howard said softly. “It’s not _you_. You’re…” He sighed. “I don’t know. You know how I… I just don’t know how to fix it and I want to stop hurting you and so I think it’s better that I leave.”

“But that’s just… stupid!” He couldn’t have kept the words in even if he’d wanted to. “You said when Dennis asked how you felt… When he said love… you didn’t deny it.” He didn’t want to bring up what Howard said under the potion, it felt like cheating somehow but there didn’t seem any other choice. He had to try everything.

Howard was quiet for a moment before letting out a slow breath. “No,” he agreed, “I didn’t.”

Vince had expected to feel very differently if Howard told him that he loved him. He’d expected to feel elated, vindicated, deliriously happy. Not terrified and sad. “You love me,” he whispered.

Howard looked at him, his eyes sad and expression pained. “Of course I do,” he said. “I’ve always… Of _course_ I love you. How could I not? You’re… Vince, you’re…” He seemed to run out of words but he didn’t look away, like he was willing Vince to understand something.

“But,” Vince said quietly, “I love you too.”

Howard smiled at him, a sad raise of his lips. The realisation hit him slowly, making him blink in confusion. He looked back at Howard and felt tears gather in his eyes. Howard loved him. He had maybe loved him for a long time. Howard knew, now, that his feelings were returned. But it didn’t matter. He was going to leave anyway. He knew it even before he asked the next question. “But if we love each other, don’t that count for something?”

“I… Vince, I’m not good for you; I’ve been making you miserable for years now. I can’t keep doing that. You deserve to be happy and I know you think you owe me something, that you have to try and save me just like you always used to, but it’s really okay. You can just let me go. I’ll be fine.”

He had it all wrong, just like always, but Vince simply didn’t know what else to say, what else to try. He’d always thought that once they’d admitted it, once the words were out there, everything else would change. But it didn’t change anything. They were still the same people, with the same problems and Howard was going to leave. “Okay,” he found himself saying. His voice was small, like it was coming from far away. “Okay,” he said again, surprised that his voice was only shaking a little.

It was over.

****

Howard had expected to feel some relief when Vince finally understood what he was saying, but of course he didn’t. If anything he felt worse. But he took a few steading breaths and climbed to his feet. He needed to leave before he said something even more stupid.

Vince telling him he loved him had certainly been unexpected but perhaps it shouldn’t have been. The other man had always been too nice, too eager to make people feel at ease. Vince wanting to return Howard’s pathetic feelings in some vain hope that it might fix him was totally in character. It made Howard feel almost terrified, although he couldn’t articulate why that was.

It felt like he had weights tied to his legs as he got to his feet. He’d never felt so wrung out in his life. The idea of leaving Vince had never been pleasant, but doing it like this felt like he was trying to rip one of his own limbs off. He didn’t have the energy to argue when Vince reached out and touched his arm.

“Stay tonight,” he whispered. “I know you’ve gotta go in the morning, but you can stay the night, just to say goodbye to the flat. You can kip in my room with me, I don’t mind.”

Howard studied his face for a moment, trying to discern what Vince was asking for. He’d seen it on his face moments before that he’d understood Howard had to leave, that he was going to let him do it. So, what was this for? But he couldn't see anything in his friend’s face that gave him any clue and soon gave up and nodded. He couldn’t deny him one night, not after everything that had happened. Perhaps it really was just a final goodbye. It was fitting, in a way, one more sleepover.

“Okay,” he said, “if you don’t mind. It’s probably a bit late to be trekking across London.”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed. “I mean, no, I don’t mind.”

“Would you like a tea or something?” Howard asked into the awkward silence that followed. “These have gone cold.” Vince hated cold tea. Or vaguely tepid tea. If it wasn’t almost scalding he wasn’t interested. What he was going to do with knowledge like that now, he didn’t know.

Vince shook his head. “Let’s just got to bed.”

He looked tired and small. Howard sometimes forgot that Vince was a lot shorter than he was, his personality was so big it was like it could fill stadiums. When they’d first met he’d seemed a lot more vulnerable, mostly just bones held together with pale skin and wild hair. That little scared kid was mostly just a memory, but Howard could see him now, in Vince’s eyes and in the set of his shoulders. It made him want to offer comfort, even if he was the cause of the upset.

They got ready for bed in silence, the easy routine from Fake Camden followed them into the flat easily enough. Vince slid under the covers beside Howard and without comment continued to slide until he was pressed against him. Howard wished that he knew what to say, that he had some words of wisdom to share. He hadn’t expected to leave like this, he’d thought he could slip away mostly unnoticed. Or perhaps in a fight where Vince would be pleased and not sad that he was going. He lay there for long moments waiting but nothing came to him, so he opened his arms for Vince and hoped his feelings might seep through by osmosis. Perhaps Vince caught at least the gist of them because he threw an arm over Howard and pressed a kiss onto his chest over his heart.

It probably didn’t mean anything; just a habit from the last few weeks bleeding over into their real lives. But Howard didn’t care, he felt too raw for there to be any barriers between reality and their pretend lives of the last month. He dropped a kiss onto the top of Vince’s head and then another, until Vince lifted his head to look at him and he could press a kiss to his lips. It was just a soft press of lips and the other man froze for a moment, but Howard didn’t pull back, and then Vince surged forward, rolling on top of Howard and kissed him again. He was stunned at Vince’s apparent enthusiasm but didn’t want to question it, so just wrapped his arms around him and kissed him back.

Vince sighed into the kiss and pressed down into Howard. There was something a bit desperate about the kiss, about the way Vince was wriggling on top of him. But Howard knew how he felt. It did feel like something awful was waiting for them just around the corner. He didn’t know how to change that, and so he just kissed him back.

It felt so natural to hold Vince’s slight frame against his own, more natural than Howard could have believed a few weeks ago. Of course that was in part because of the pretence of their relationship, but it was more than that. It was like they’d gained a new level of understanding too, Howard had been able to see Vince in a way he never had before. He’d known, on some level, that he was hurting the other man with his inability to be happy, but he hadn’t really known how much. He hadn’t known how much pressure Vince was putting on himself to be liked by everyone, to be having a good time. Howard had believed the lie, had wanted to on some level; it meant that he didn’t feel bad for not being able to give Vince all the things he clearly wanted. But all he’d actually done was make it unbearable for the other man to be at home, even when he wanted to be. He felt closer to him now, maybe closer than he ever had, especially because Vince was the only person Howard had admitted how he felt to. He was certainly the only person he’d confessed his love to that still wanted to kiss him. The fact that it was mostly out of pity didn’t seem to matter so much with Vince on top of him, pressing down into him.

The kissing had been overwhelming before, without everything that had happened since, but it was all all-consuming now. Howard’s hands wouldn’t stop moving, wanting to touch every part of Vince, to map his body before the feeling was taken away. They tugged at Vince’s top, sneaking a hand underneath the fabric to touch his skin. Howard groaned at the feeling of it, his hips hitching up even as he tried to pull Vince closer.

Vince gasped as Howard pressed up and pulled back for a moment. “I love you,” he whispered, between pressed kisses to Howard’s face and neck. “I love you, Howard.”

Howard froze, his heart seeming to stop in his chest for a moment, and pulled back. He didn’t know how to respond to the words, didn’t know why Vince was really saying them. He’d appreciated them before, had been deeply moved that Vince would offer them as some comfort at the end. But, he didn’t know why he was saying them now. They made him feel panicked and sad, almost embarrassed that Vince was trying to comfort him. “Don’t,” he said, “I can’t… Vince, please.”

He wondered if Vince really understood what he was implying with the words. It wasn’t like he’d had any partners to appreciate what they really meant. He knew well enough that Vince wasn’t interested in really making a relationship work. Even if Howard felt able to stay, he was sure that it wouldn’t work.

It looked for a moment like Vince was going to argue with him. But in the end he just kissed him again, firmly on the lips before shifting so he could lay his head down on Howard’s chest. Perhaps he understood what Howard meant, because he made no further attempt to go back to the kissing. Instead, he whispered, “Tell me a story.”

“Me tell you a story?” Howard asked. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands now they weren’t kissing, so he placed them gently on Vince’s back. “Isn’t it meant to be the other way around?”

Vince shrugged, which was difficult in their current positions. “I just don’t want to think anymore,” he said, his voice tight, “and you’re a good writer. Tell me a story until I fall asleep.”

He couldn’t deny him, Vince asking for things was always Howard’s weakness. He paused for a moment before speaking. The story wasn’t anything special, mostly stolen from various adventure books he’d read when he was a boy, but with a beautiful prince with amazing hair in the place of the protagonist.

As he spoke Vince shifted so he was lying next to Howard, his head still pillowed on Howard’s chest. It felt nice, a moment of peace and connection. He realised now, too late, that they’d had more than one of those while in Fake Camden. He wished he’d thought to savour them more. He continued to speak until his voice stopped threatening to break and the tightness in his throat eased, he didn’t stop even when it went back to hurting again from how long he’d been speaking. He ran his hand over Vince’s head, smoothing down his hair gently until the other man’s breathing evened out.

He didn’t want to end the story and so looped it around, bringing the prince back to almost the start, with no care for narrative or character arc. It was soothing. Perhaps if he just kept talking the morning would never come.

***

Vince woke the next morning slowly, his eyes not really wanting to open. He blinked for a moment and rolled over. The other side of the bed was empty.

He scrambled from under the covers and out into the flat. It was empty. He could feel it even before he checked the bathroom. Howard’s bag was gone. _He’d_ gone. Panicked gripped his heart like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

Howard was gone.

He hadn’t really believed that it would happen. Despite the fact his things were already in a new flat across London, despite the fact that he’d told him over and over that he was leaving. Vince sunk down to the floor in the middle of the floor. He’d messed it all up. He should have known what was happening with Howard, should have been more considerate. He brought his knees up and rested his head against them, closing his eyes tightly.

It had never occurred to him how little Howard thought of himself. He’d taken most of his bluster at face value. Besides, _Vince_ knew Howard was the best thing in the entire world, so it stood to reason that Howard would too. But, if he _didn’t_ then perhaps Vince’s jabs had landed harder than he’d meant them too. He hadn’t really meant it when he’d called Howard boring, or at least he hadn’t meant it in a really _bad_ way. Vince didn’t want four hour lectures on the ways of being an outdoorsman, but he liked that Howard wanted to give them. He’d _liked_ Howard’s attention being on him, even if that wasn’t why he’d agreed to go to the woods with him. The idea that maybe he’d made Howard worse with his insistence that he not find friends, not get a book deal, or become an actor made him feel sick. He’d been so wrapped up in not losing him, he’d pushed him away entirely. And made him miserable. He’d never forgive himself for that.

The thing was, Howard wasn’t even wrong. They _had_ been bad for each other lately. Vince didn’t know when that had happened, but it was undeniable. Howard had been condescending and rude and Vince had lashed out over and over. They were both miserable, in their own ways. Sure, part of that was because they’d not bothered to tell the other about their feelings, but that wasn’t all of it.

But the other thing was, Vince didn’t care. He hadn’t given up on Howard for over twenty years, he wasn’t about to start now.

He lifted his hwad and slowly pulled himself to his feet, before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and starting toward the stairs. He didn’t know where Howard was, but he’d find him. Even if he had to walk the streets of London in his pyjamas for the next year. He was grabbing a coat at random and hurrying down the stairs before he had time to think of a more concrete plan. He didn’t want to wait, Howard was as stubborn as he was and once he was gone there’d be no getting him back. And Vince couldn’t bare that. The thought made him feel terrified and desperate.

He was running by the time he was in the shop and had to skid to a halt. Howard was standing in the middle of the room, staring blankly ahead, his coat on and bag at his feet.

“Howard,” he said, his voice breathless.

Howard startled, turning around. “Vince,” he said, looking like he’d been caught doing something elicit.

“Don’t go,” Vince said, the words quieter than he’d planned on them being. There was too much he wanted to say, the words were all jumbled together in his throat and didn’t want to come out.

He watched as Howard’s face closed, a look of pained frustration briefly visible before he managed to hide it. “Vince,” he started, but Vince didn’t let him finish.

He dropped his coat to the floor and strode across the space between them. He didn’t stop until he was able to wrap his arms around Howard, who didn’t resist. In fact, Howard’s arms came up and held him tightly.

“I know why you think you’ve got to go,” Vince said. “And I know you’re right, too. We’ve been shit for each other for ages now.”

Howard’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into his hair. “I didn’t realise how anxious you’d got again.”

“I know that,” Vince said, pulling back so he could look up at him. “I didn’t want you to think I was unhappy. I wanted to show that I didn’t need you. But,” he took a deep breath. “I’ve loved you forever. All them things I said while we were pretending… I didn’t have to make it up. That’s how I’ve always felt.”

Howard was gaping at him, there was no other word for it. He looked vaguely ridiculous as he stuttered, “What?”

But now the words were coming out he couldn’t seem to stop them and he cut right over him, “The thing is, I don’t need you anymore, Howard, and you don’t need me.”

“Well, thank you for pointing that out, sir,” Howard said, his arms dropping from around Vince’s waist.

“But, we don’t,” Vince persisted, tightening his arms around Howard and not letting him move back. “We’ve grown up and we have different hobbies and different friends. But, I don’t think we know how to _not_ need each other. We don’t know how to just want each other.”

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” he said after a long pause.

“Look,” he said, “when I was little I didn’t know anything and you taught me all sorts of stuff. You kept me safe from people that just wanted to take the piss. And I taught you all about adventures and that you didn’t have to always listen to what your dad said.”

“But, we’re older now,” Howard said, looking confused but not annoyed or upset which was an improvement.

“Exactly!” Vince said. “We’ve grown up but, like, we didn’t change the way we are with each other. You don’t need me – look what happened when you went to Denmark or to be a binman. You were fine. And so was I.”

“So,” Howard started, “it’s good that I’m leaving?”

“I dunno,” Vince said. “I guess if you really _need_ to live alone and brood all by yourself, then you should.” Howard looked like he was going to speak again, but Vince didn’t let him. “But I don’t think you should. I think you should stay. I think you should work out who you want to be and so should I, but we can do that together. Because,” Vince stopped and licked his lips, his heart was hammering so hard it felt like he was seconds away from a heart attack, “I don’t want to give you up. I don’t want to give up what he had this last month. I was _happy_ with you as my boyfriend and it _worked_. I know you felt it too, so don’t lie. When we were apart I was okay but I wasn’t happy either.”

There was a silence that seemed to last at least several centuries where Howard looked at him, searching his face. “What you’re saying is,” Howard started and then stopped. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“I don’t need you, Howard,” he said, “but I do want you. I want to be with you. Is that… What is it that you want?”

“I don’t know,” Howard said slowly and Vince felt like he’d been punched in the gut. The air left him as he waited for Hoard to continue. “I’ve never really known what I want, other than for you to tell me that you want me.”

Vince let a slow breath, closing his eyes, trying a get a grip on all the emotions in his chest. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

Howard huffed. “That’s not…” He sighed, frowning like he couldn’t grasp at a word. “This is my fault. I was always waiting for the right moment to mention it, but it never came.”

“Yeah,” Vince agreed, half grinning without any real humour, “I know what you mean.”

“But, I do need some time,” Howard said. “I think that… I mean, I need to think about what I want.”

Vince swallowed. He nodded even though he wanted to argue. “I’d like…” he started, not really sure how to put what he was feeling into words. “I’d like to start again - you don’t have to stay. But, maybe we could date?”

Howard smiled for the first since they’d left Fake Camden. It was like the sun coming out. “That sounds nice. But,” he started, looking serious again immediately, “you need to be honest. We need to figure out if we really do like each other, or if we’re all twisted up because of the past.”

The impulse to argue, to tell Howard he was being stupid, was so strong that Vince had to press his lips together firmly. He waited until he was sure that he could control himself before nodding. “You too,” he said. “I ain’t a picnic, you know, you might not want to hang out with me once you’ve gone off and found other friends.”

“It’s possible,” Howard said, although the corner of his mouth was raised.

Vince felt a mixture of terror and elation as Howard pressed a kiss to the top of his head and stepped back. Perhaps all he’d done was force another delay, Howard leaving still felt like a step back. They’d _been_ a couple for a month, after all. They’d lived together for years. Vince didn’t want to date Howard. He wanted to spend every moment with him. He always wanted Howard to be looking at him and the idea of him trying to build a life away from Vince was terrifying. But perhaps that’s what Howard was trying to tell him.

“Howard,” Vince called, he was already turning to leave when the word slipped passed Vince’s lips.

“Yes?” he asked.

“You’re not… Is this really what you want? I mean, I know you think you’ve got to leave, but the rest of it? Do you really want… me?”

Howard was back across the shop in just two strides and pulled Vince to him. “It’s all I want,” he said. “But, I’m starting to think that’s not all that healthy.”

Vince shrugged. “It feels okay with me.”

He felt the laugh rumble through Howard even though it didn’t really leave his lips. “Thank you,” he said, pressing another kiss to Vince’s head. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Call when you get to the flat?” Vince asked, hating how small and worried his voice sounded.

Howard nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice was rough, like perhaps he was as close to crying as Vince was. “I love you, little man.”

Vince nodded and blinked back tears. “You too,” he said, then gently pushed Howard away. “See you later, yeah?”

Howard half turned, but paused to looked back at Vince. “Yea, see you later.”

The bell jangled merrily as Howard opened the door. Vince balled his hands into fists and forced himself to stand still. He wanted Howard to turn back, to say something else, to run back into Vince’s arms. But he didn’t. He walked through the door and closed it behind him. Vince ran to the door and peered through the glass, watching as Howard walked down the street and around the corner.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood by there, it might have been minutes or hours. He didn’t think, didn’t cry. He just waited. It felt like Bollo was sat on his chest but otherwise he was almost numb. Eventually he managed to drag himself back up the stairs to the sofa where he sat in silence, trying very carefully not to think of anything at all.

It took him a long moment to realise that Gary Newman was playing tinnily from his bedroom. He leapt to his feet and ran for the phone. Howard’s name was flashing across the screen and his heart squeezed for a moment before he fumbled with the buttons and managed to answer it.

“Hello?” It came out all small and trembling which was embarrassing.

“Vince.”

Howard’s voice made him relax and he flopped onto the bed. “You at your flat?” He didn’t like the way that sounded at all.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“What’s it like?” Vince asked. He hated the idea that he couldn’t even picture Howard and where he was.

“It’s… very white,” he said slowly.

“Sounds well boring,” Vince said before he could help himself.

But Howard laughed. “I’m sure you’d have something to say about the décor, yes,” he said. “Perhaps you can help me pick out some art.”

Vince closed his eyes and gripped the phone. It was something. Howard was offering him a lifeline into his new life. “Yeah,” Vince said softly. “That sounds good. You can make me dinner and I’ll bring you round something as a housewarming gift.”

It would do, Vince told himself firmly. He’d make it work.

“Okay,” Howard said, sounding almost shy, “perhaps I could make you a cake too.”

Or, he thought with a smile, _they’d_ make it work. Together.

**THE END**

  
  



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